Bedside Drabbles
by fireun
Summary: series of drabbles. everything from RoyAi to shonen ai and back again. with some gratuitous Black Hayate thrown in for good measure. Spoilers here and there...serious ones marked at the begining of the spoilerific drabble itself.
1. Drabble the First Roy and Riza

_Disclaimer- i dont own full metal alchemist or any such nonsense. _

_Well then. i had some silly drabble ideas while digging through my last week of classes here...and of course thought i should inflict them upon you all. enjoy and remember to leave reviews!_

_Drabble the first. ya know how Riza's hair gets pretty long through the series? i am sure this would happen to her. i know it has happened to me....  
-fireun_

"Damn it...Mustang."  
"Mustang?"  
"Mustang!"  
While the irrate whisper did not wake the sprawled Colonel, the distinct sound of the safety of a gun clicking off sent him flying from the bed and a slight burnt smell to drift through the air.  
Riza replaced her gun to its place on the nightstand, stretched and laid back. "You were on my hair" was the only explanation she offered in response to Roy's indignant glare before she rolled over and closed her eyes.  
"Not fair, Lieutenant." Roy eyed the bed, trying to figure out how best to reclaim his favorite side from Riza's determined sprawl. 


	2. Drabble the Second Ed and Al

_Disclaimer- Still dont own any part of FMA. much to my eternal dismay._

_Drabble the Second. Al plus stray kitten plus rain equals rust  
-fireun  
_

_Creeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaak_.  
The halting whine of metal rubbling harshly against itself.  
_Scaaaaaaaaatch._  
Ed gave up trying to sleep with a displeased snarl, throwing off his blankets and sitting.  
"Al."  
"Yes, brother?"  
"I told you if you sat in the rain with that damn cat that you would rust, right?"  
"Yes, brother..."  
"Good, then i told you so. Now fix it back to a nice normal clank or go somewhere else so i can sleep."  
A very chagrined suit of armor creaked and scratched its way out of the small bedroom, relieved that Ed had not noticed the kitten curled and purring sleepily in his arms.


	3. Drabble the Third Hughes

_Disclaimer - nope. still not mine.  
Drabble the Third. more cute than a pile of sleepy kittens_

With a patient stealth, the hunter stalked its prey- the man-sized lump under the blankets. Carefully it made its way into the room, remembering to avoid the creaky part of the floor. Slowly…slowly…

POUNCE!

Maes Hughes moved instantly from asleep to a laughing awake as his daughter landed on his stomach. With an exaggerated roar he grabbed Elysia and tickled her mercilessly as she shrieked in glee. When she began to tire, he rolled her into a tight hug, grinning.  
"G'morin, da!" She smiled up at him in a gap-toothed greeting.  
This really was the best way in the world to wake up.


	4. Drabble the Fourth Roy and Hughes

_ Disclaimer: due to circumstances beyond my control i still do not own Full Metal Alchemist or any of its characters. _

_Drabble the Fourth, in which phone calls are made and Roy proves to be more infuriating than a telemarker at dinner time._

* * *

The phone was ringing.

An arm snaked out from under the rather comfortable warmth of the blanket and with practiced ease snatched the phone and hauled it back to a face still pressed solidly against pillows.

"Ummph?"

"Good morning, Maes."

"Urmmuph."

"And here I thought you liked hearing my voice over the phone." Roy's voice was thick with a sly smile. Definitely audible, the smirk was almost _tangible_.

Gathering brain cells still brandy-dipped Maes took an attempt at actual words. "The hell time is it…?" Maes cracked one eye open, seeking some amount of light to judge the day by.

"Oh, about an hour before dawn."

"The hell you want? 'S too early for work."

"Well, I was having some coffee, and wanted to let you know how delicious it was." Was it Maes' imagination, or was Roy attempting to coo into the phone?

"Why would I want to know about your damn cup of coffee at this indecent hour?!"

"Well, since you always think to share with me, I thought I would try and be such a good friend to you." Yeah, Roy was crooning into the phone, his intonation and speech a fair imitation of Maes' own.

"Mustang."

"Yes?"

"Shove it."

* * *

**Spades 44**- the drabbles! they are addictive! by which i mean, can i have some more Havoc/Fury drabbles please? ya know...it is your fault i write these thingies. i never even liked them before yours.  



	5. Drabble the Fifth Riza

_Disclaimer - While i would like to claim someone as fantastic as Riza as my own creation, she belongs to another, as well as the rest of the cast of Full Metal Alchemist. All i own is the computer i typed this one._

_Drabble the Fifth! In which we find out two cast members snore. _

_

* * *

_

Someone was snoring. While that in itself would not have bothered Lt. Riza Hawkeye, as Roy was known to snore with great enthusiasm when he managed to sleep in just the right position, the fact she was sleeping alone this evening made the sound of immediate concern.

Riza reached for her gun and slid out of bed. In a crouch more suited to covert operations than her bedroom she moved silently toward the perceived source of the snore.

_'If one of them snuck in here…' _She wouldn't put it past those guys, creeping into a woman's room to peep, and then falling asleep. Hell, she almost expected it. Though, she didn't want to explain away bullet wounds to Roy in the morning…

Her train of thought shot dead with the precision she was famous for, Riza straightened and smirked.

Black Hayate lay, sprawled on his side, chest heaving with whistling snores.

With affectionate frustration she nudged the dog until it rolled over with a heavy yawn and rested its nose on forepaws.

Satisfied the problem was solved, Lt. Riza Hawkeye climbed back into bed for a few more hours of sleep.

* * *

_my cat snores like an old man....blame this one on him. -Fireun_


	6. Drabble the Sixth Roy

_Disclaimer - FMA still remains out of my personal ownership._

_Drabble the Sixth! so bittersweet there are emo songs about it._

* * *

Colonel Roy Mustang was carrying an oversized stuffed teddy.

It looked ridiculous, Roy's pale face peering between the ears of the toy, his expression as solemn as if he were on the parade ground. He shifted his burden awkwardly so as to peer at his watch, then grimaced and picked up the pace.

Colonel Roy Mustang was carrying a stuffed teddy through Central in the wee hours just before dawn. He came to a halt outside of a plain house, knocked quietly, and was let in by a smiling woman. Roy strolled through the familiar house, finally stopping to slip into a room where a child slept.

As the sun rose he whispered "Happy birthday, Elysia." Settling the teddy in all of its mammoth glory beside her bed he let himself out, a crooked, almost sad smile on his face.


	7. Drabble the Seventh RoyAi!

_Disclaimer: the usual, i am just a poor fangirl expressing her admiration. _

_Drabble the Seventh! Now with more RoyAi!_

* * *

It was a casual motion, one he had seen many times in action, but never towards _him_. Riza Hawkeye continued on past him, as if nothing out of the normal had just occurred, staunchly ignoring the fact Jean Havocs jaw hung open in blatant amazement, ignoring the beaming smile on Cain Fury's face. Only Black Hayate seemed unfazed by his mistresses actions- for him it was routine, his usual interaction with the blonde.

His usual smirk firmly in place, although maybe a bit broader, Roy Mustang ran a hand through his hair, straightening and smoothing hairs that had been mussed by Hawkeyes affectionate pat as she had walked past.

* * *

**Happy Holidays all! **


	8. Drabble the Eigth Roy and Ed

_Disclaimer: see previous seven drabbles_

_Drabble the Eigth. Ed can actually be a nice guy every now and then. even towards that bastard colonel. liiiiiight shonen ai_

* * *

It was the smell of coffee, initially, that woke him. After, it was the realization that he was, in face, smelling said coffee and had done nothing himself to brew any sort of coffee. He blinked blearily, taking in the early hour and wondering what exactly was going on….

….Edward was missing from his usual spot on the bed. Not unusual…apart from the fact it was the wrong end of the day for the terminally irate alchemist to be conscious, much less mobile. Half worried, half irked he hauled himself upright.

And blinked.

Ed had left what appeared to be fresh coffee on the nightstand, and from the smell of it, it was Roy's favorite blend. The colonel paused, thinking for a minute that this was one of Ed's taunting games, that there would be something vile in the coffee.

It was then he smelled cooking eggs. And bacon.

It appeared that Edward had remembered his wistful mention of breakfast in bed, and had not forgotten his birthday after all.


	9. Drabble the Ninth Ed

_Disclaimer: does anyone read the disclaimer anymore?_

_Drabble the Ninth! It appears these are going o be rather regular until the bunnies decide to let me alone..._

* * *

Sometimes it was a boon that Ed managed to be such a deep sleeper. It allowed him to sleep in awkward places, in uncomfortable positions, and in stressful situations. In his line of work, this was most definitely a talent. When he was back in Central, in a warm bed, it wasn't as necessary, but habits are habits, and unfortunately it is often the case that such habits can becomes a man's downfall. While this wasn't _exactly_ a case of life and death, it took a serious couple of thumps on the back from Al to get Ed to stop choking. Al patted his brother on the back, waiting for the shorter man to calm down.

Armstrong's sparkling facewas not something _any _man should see immediately upon waking.


	10. Drabble the Tenth Havoc and Fury

_Disclaimer: characters are not mine, only the bizzare situations i feel the need to put them into._

_Drabble the Tenth, and this one is completely and utterly for Spades 44, the bringer of the much loved and appreciated Havoc/Fury. _

* * *

It was just like taking care of a puppy; one of the sickly, mostly shy one you got when you ventured into most shelters. It needed to be fed, comforted, cleaned up after; it would look up you with wide, guileless eyes…

And when it got bad, when there were nightmares or it was feeling too sick to cope, it would let out that slight keening whine that was universal to all suffering creatures. That was when you would crawl into bed, rub its back slowly, soothingly, make just the right quiet sounds and wait for it to fall back asleep.

Cain Fury, with the flu, was very much like said puppy. Jean Havoc curled his body around the smaller man, making soothing noises he was sure no one would believe came from him while stroking the sick man's hair.

Fury even had the appropriate wet puppy nose. After his initial moment of eww Havoc just filed that little detail deep into his comparison, wondering if Fury would be angry if Havoc asked him to wear a collar when he was well...even if only once or twice…


	11. Drabble the Eleventh Havoc and Fury

_Disclaimer: amendment, is anyone apart from Spades-sama still reading this? i suppose if i owned fma i wouldnt have to be writing this...so you can assume i own no part of said anime._

_Well then. since i love Spades 44-sama and since Dejiko Mew Mew suggested i should...here is more Havoc/Fury! And Dejiko, if you draw Fury in a collar i NEED to see it!!!!!!!!!!_

_Presenting Drabble the Eleventh! _

* * *

Jean Havoc was sick, and Cain Fury was loving it. Of course he had this nagging little twinge of guilt that kept him from radiating joy in a very Maes-like fashion, but overall it was a good day. The house was clean, tea burbled happily on the stove, Fury has even brought the sick man breakfast in bed in a fit of domestic glee.

The best part though had nothing to do with being able to pamper the other man. It was involved completely with crawling into bed, ignoring Havoc's baleful glare, and burrowing his face in the crook of the sick man's neck. For one blissful day, which may yet, if luck held, stretch into two or three, Havoc was completely clear of the smoker's miasma that usually hovered all around him. Fury inhaled deeply, reveling in the musky scent that was Havoc's alone, tinged lightly with soap and a haphazard sort of cologne application.

"Hey, that tickles…" Havoc huffed in a very congested voice.

Fury's only answer was to chuckle against Havoc's throat, which of course only managed to tickle the other man even more.


	12. Drabble the Twelfth Al

_Disclaimer - FMA and all of its much abused and much loved characters are not mine. i am just adding to the abuse._

_"Write me a fic about Al" she says. "make it involve him being used as an easy bake oven", she says. "make it involve Elysia-chan", she says._

_and this is the crack i come up with. Drabble the Twelfth. enjoy?_

* * *

This was not was Al had in mind when he had volunteered to help with the office party. Not at all.

Nope.

Not even close.

The indignity of it all!

He never thought Elysia would want to bake a pie for the office. Or that "uncle" Roy would be helping her cook.

There was something terrifying about Colonel Mustang _smiling_ like that. It wasn't the usual aloof smirk ™, or even something smugly assured…it was damn well gleeful.

In that mud pie sort of way…

"Alphonse, if you could turn please." Colonel Mustang sounded far too pleased.

"Yes puh-lease!" Elysia chimed in, ecstatic.

He would have sighed, under more normal circumstances, and instead just gathered his eternal good will towards his friends and turned around, coming face to face again with the colonel.

Mustang snapped lightly, sparking the firewood a bit more to keep the burning steady. He wanted to pie to cook evenly. "Alphonse, if you could kneel just a little…"

Alphonse hoped Ed never heard about this. He would most definitely kill the colonel this time. With a creak he bent his knees, bringing the cooking pie resting in his stomach closer to the open fire, wondering who was going to clean the spilled pie filling off of the inside of his armor…


	13. Drabble the Thirteenth Al Continued

_Disclaimer- i am out of creative disclaimers._

_well damn, three in one day. methinks i am going to curl in a corner and sleep now. Here it is, the continuation of the previous drabble, requested by the drabble-loving DarkWarLordofDoomness. _

_Presenting Drabble the Thirteenth!_

* * *

Pie.

Yes….He most definitely could smell pie cooking. There was nothing more delicious than fresh pie, with the filling just cool enough not to burn holes into the lining of your mouth, but hot enough that your taste buds would need a few hours to recover.

Filled with anticipation of fresh baked goods, Ed did what any single male in his position would do- he followed his nose. Unfortunately what met him was not a pie waiting blissfully unattended on a table, but that bastard colonel lighting a pile of wood under…..

"Al….?"

There was an odd note in Ed's voice, and Al twitched anticipating an outburst of mythological proportions. What happened was far, far worse.

Ed turned towards Elysia and smiled sweetly. "Hey, Elysia-chan, papa needs to see you." When the girl had scampered off in the direction of the house Ed turned that terrifyingly sweet smile towards Mustang. "Start running. Now."

"Brother…"

"Al, get rid of that pie and go cool off."

"You aren't going to do anything to Colonel Mustang, are you brother?"

"Oh, no. If I was going to take care of it I wouldn't have told him to run." If anything that smile got wider, and Ed's voice dripped sugar. "I am just going to visit with Gracia for a moment and see if I can borrow the phone."

"Who are you going to call…?"

"Hawkeye." Ed cooed.

Colonel Mustang chose that moment to beat a most strategic retreat.


	14. Drabble the Fourteenth Ed

_Disclaimer - FMA is owned by a far greater mind than my own._

_well. since it really is lacking in support and substance in the community...more Havoc/Fury! (shonen ai, dear readers. this one has shonen ai)_

_Drabble the Fourteenth!_

* * *

They were…kissing.

Ed blinked once or twice, wondering what exactly he had just stumbled upon. Mustang needed Havoc to accompany him on an errand, and had sent Ed out like a little messenger boy to retrieve the absent lieutenant.

And now Ed knew why the man had gone AWOL somewhere between lunch and the office- to go necking with the diminutive sergeant major.

"Hey, boss, could you wander the hell off and go bother the colonel or something?" Havoc's voice was gruff with irritation.

A part of Ed's brain was still digesting this new bit of information, apparently the part that was at least partially responsible for spastic retorts, for Ed only managed an aggressive sort of stance, automail arm hand resting solidly on his hip, legs slightly apart. "Mustang needs you."

"Well tell him I am busy." Havoc curled an arm possessively around a furiously blushing Fury.

Ed did something that rarely crossed his mind as an option- he retreated without argument.

Upon his return to the office he stomped into position in front of Roy's desk, as per normal routine, and snapped out, "He's busy."

"With what?!" Roy was miffed, quite obviously, at the fact his subordinate was being, well, insubordinate, which left him more than a little curious.

"Fury." Was Ed's only response as he turned smartly and left.

* * *

**Spades 44**- it is not that Havoc didnt like Fury cuddling...it is more that he was sick and Fury was so damn _happy_ about it.

**Dejiko Mew Mew**- there is something adorable and terrifying about the image of "uncle" Roy...i dont know why, but the smile i can see on his face when he brings over the annoying little gifts uncles always give to kids...hides

see, both of ya? now you not only have me addicted to drabbles, you have me cooing over Havoc/Fury! :P


	15. Drabble the Fifteenth Roy

_Disclaimer - i freely admit i do not own fma, and am far too poor to sue._

_Well, here is some loving for one of my favorite (non shonen ai!) anime pairings ever. for Exie, who wanted more Riza._

_Drabble the Fifteenth!_

* * *

It was awkward, getting dressed in something other than his familiar blue uniform. He lacked the familiar fluid motions that he usually carried out when getting dressed, the calm assurance he gained when he was fully in uniform and secure in his role, what was expected of him.

A suit was something completely different. He had a firm grasp on how to take a woman out to dinner and woo her in three easy steps. But this one was different- intelligent as well as beautiful, witty and self-assured…

He walked up the few steps to her door, attempting to gather some of his charismatic grace as he knocked. When that door opened, every practiced line and learned routine vanished in a blink and he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"You look beautiful."

His almost adolescent reverence was greeted with a brilliant smile, and a hand placed gently on his offered arm. Roy Mustang might have no idea how to treat Riza Hawkeye outside of uniform, but he was off to a spectacular start.


	16. Drabble the Sixteenth New Years

_Disclaimer- i do not own fma, i am just injecting my usual angst into an already angst-rich environment._

**_SPOILERS FOR EP 25 CONTAINED IN THIS DRABBLE  
_**

_Drabble the Sixteenth, special New Years Edition of the drabbles. as always, reviews are adored while flames are used to cook s'mores._

* * *

It was a silly idea, some sort of ritual the inane masses carried out each year for reasons no one really remembered. A new year was no different from the old. The only things that changed were the same things that managed to shift during the year; who lead, who followed, who was at war with who, and what paperwork needed to be filed.

And the people who were at your side.

That was always changing, and never in any sort of dependably predictable manner. New years had never meant anything to him before, nothing beyond watching Maes get ridiculously drunk and urging more and more brandy onto his friend, that manic smile on his face.

As that was currently impossible, he was at a sort of loss as to what to do on the eve of the New Year. Most people were off with their loved ones, or crowding into bars. He didn't want to be around the jubilant masses. It didn't seem appropriate somehow without his usual partner in crime. So he sat, brooding quietly and pursuing the ages old tradition of looking for that elusive answer rumored to linger in the bottom of bottles of strong liquor. Undisturbed until a hand settled onto his shoulder.

Roy turned, waited a moment for his eyes to catch up with the motion, and blinked in incomprehension. Why was Riza Hawkeye crouching beside him? There was no reason to think anyone would come looking for him on the roof, and no reason at all for a woman like Riza to be, well, here and not out _there_, with friends and family. He was sure she had people to celebrate being with and having a future beside.

Damn it…he missed Maes. He fucking missed Maes…

A sob sneaked past his better intentions and he was drunkenly embarrassed. It was the alcohol. Everyone knew Roy Mustang did _not_ cry.

Strong, though most definitely feminine arms wrapped around him gently, almost cautiously, and a kiss was placed on the top of his head. "Happy New Year." Riza whispered.

It was a New Year, but there were still old friends to lift him up.


	17. Drabble the Seventeenth Roy and Hughes

_Disclaimer- i am merely a poor fan paying homage to the splendor that is FMA._

_and now, angst free, it is Drabble the Seventeenth!!!!!!!!!_

* * *

There was a frantic pounding on his door, accompanied by an energetic, albeit muffled, sort of shouting. Roy cracked open an eye and blearily regarded the clock. 3am. Ok, it had better either fire or death to have Maes this riled up at such an ungodly hour. He clambered off of the bed with all the grace of a hibernating bear, and unlocked the door.

Just in time for Maes to swing it open. The smile on the other mans face grew to manic proportions, even for him, and he hauled Roy into a rib-snapping hug. Roy almost choked on the amount of alcohol wafting from the other mans grinning face, then attempted to free himself.

"SHE SAID YES!" Maes shouted, determined to tell not only his friend but also the entire city if his volume was any measure.

"Congratulations." Roy drawled, and then turned, deciding bed was the preferable option, at least until Maes calmed down at least a little.

"Come celebrate with me!"

"I think you are doing a rather good job on your own."

"It isn't the same without you!" Maes decided, tugging Roy back out into the hall. The older man was far too stable for as drunk as he smelled, Roy decided, and unfairly so, for he found himself being hauled to a bar, in the wee hours of the morning, in his bedclothes.


	18. Drabble the Eighteenth Ed

_Disclaimer - fma no belong to april. april just play with fma._

_Originally written for an alter!series drabble challenge in the lj community, but i thought it would be nice to post here, as i really havent done that much with good ol' Ed.  
_

_Drabble the Eighteenth!_

* * *

Of all the stupid…

Pain sparked with enough intensity to bring tears to his eyes, which in itself was as frustrating as the pain itself. He had meant to exit the room with panache and more than a little bit of force. He had not meant to misjudge the actual placement of the doorframe, thereby slamming his shoulder into very solid wood.

And in front of Hoenheim, of all people…Ed hissed in pain, thinking back to all the times he had slammed that sensitive nerve in his elbow as a child. This was even worse.

He reflexively clenched his good hand on his shoulder, pressing tightly against the stinging joining of prosthetic and flesh as his legs buckled in reaction to the intense waves of pain. He was going to walk out of this room on his own feet, damn it. He was not going to slide to the ground and take a minute to recover, no matter how tempting an option that seemed.

Of all the stupid, little things to do…He pressed his eyes shut, hoping at least to save the tears and perhaps that last little bit of pride.

A strong hand settled on his good shoulder, eased a traitorously unresisting body to settle onto the floor. Ed snapped his eyes open to meet the concerned gaze of Hoenheim. In the next bit of silence a battle was fought, and a decision made. Ed closed his eyes again and leaned back, allowing for this one instance of weakness, and quietly thankful for the arms around him.


	19. Drabble the Nineteenth Babysitting Part ...

_Disclaimer - another drabble, another disclaimer. see the previous ones for interesting ways to say i dont own fma._

_ok. you know you are working too much when you dont have time to write drabbles. blargh. this one is for Snicks-taisa. i did promise her no more Roy abuse...i dont think this one counts as abuse though...fluff, yes. fluffy like cute little bunny tails. no angst for me today. Snicks, part two later today. i promise!_

_Presenting Drabble the Nineteenth!_

* * *

Babysitting. Of all the demented, completely out of left-field things Maes had asked of him in all the years they had known each other…hell, he hadn't thought it was possible to get Maes to willingly leave little Elysia for any reason that did not involve him going to work.

Roy looked at the toddler, who grinned up at him, revealing one proud tooth and a lot of drool-y looking mouth. This was going to be…interesting. If Maes hadn't reminded him of that one time last year that Roy really owed him for, Roy would NEVER have agreed to this.

What the hell does one even DO to entertain children?

That must have been on Elysia's mind as well, for she looked up at him, expectantly, waiting for something interesting to happen. Well, with a father like Maes, one couldn't blame her for thinking all adult males were going to be an endless source of amusement and attention.

Roy awkwardly hefted the disproportionately heavy child and huffed in surprise. How did something so little get to heavy? It made no sense…Though there was something…comfortable about the way the little one scrunched her face into the crook of his neck, how her tiny hands clutched at his white shirt. She had a sort of powdery smell, which was unfamiliar but tweaked some bit of parental mechanism in the primal depths of his brain. That _must_ be the explanation, because Roy Mustang did not cuddle small children.

* * *

**Deijiko Mew Mew** - I like to think of Ed as having a sort of grudging relationship with Hohenheim. you have to have really loved someone to be that determined to hate them when they leave...

**Animegoil**- good to hear from you again! i am glad you like the drabbles! Roy and Maes really do have the most amazing relationship ever! EVER!


	20. Drabble the Twentieth Babysitting Part T...

_Disclaimer - blahblahblah fan work blahblahblah no ownership blahblah_

_Drabble the Twentieth. i feel like i should throw confetti or something to celebrate...thank you people for reading. tis the only reason i plod along on these things. Snicks- no jazz music in this one. sorry. will snag that for the next one..._

* * *

The house was silent. As it was well after little Elysia's bedtime, this was an excellent sign, signaling that the babysitting mission Roy had accepted had been undertaken with his trademark panache. Maes escorted his wife into the house, as quietly as he could manage, both of them content from an actual evening out. There had been an elegant dinner, live music…it had been a relaxing anniversary celebration, but there was work to be done and a daughter to be looked after. Maes ambled happily through the house, trying to figure out which room Roy was settled in, most likely reading and waiting for their return.

"Gracia!" He stage whispered in an attempt to be quiet and get his wife's attention at the same time from where he stood in the hall. He pointed, grinning as his wife raised an eyebrow in question. Sprawled in the chair he favored when visiting was Roy, dead asleep, a very content looking Elysia curled in his lap.

After a furtive photo was taken, Maes waved Gracia ahead to wake them. "He is less likely to set you on fire. Roy will be royally pissed if he wakes in that precariously cute situation and sees my grinning face. You get Elysia to bed. I will get a glass of brandy ready for sleeping beauty."


	21. Drabble the Twentyfirst Black Hayate

_Disclaimer - i dont own fma. i would like to disown my sense of humor, but alas i appear to be stuck with that..._

_Drabble the Twenty-first. no Black Hayates were harmed in the writing of this drabble..._

* * *

Black Hayate was hiding in the only place he could think of- huddled under the Small Man's desk. The dog settled unhappily on the Small Man's feet, taking some measure of reassurance from the contact. The Small Man would never turn him over, would not give him up without a fight…

His nose twitched, picking up the scent of floral soap and gunpowder, a combination that usually made him think of being fed, and now only inspired terror. He couldn't prevent the tiny whine that escaped from his throat at the familiar steady footsteps that came closer and closer to his den. The Small Man's feet twitched once, betraying his own anxiety.

"Fury."

"Hawkeye. How are you doing today?"

Black Hayate could hear the nervous whine in the Small Man's voice…maybe he should have hidden with the alpha male- he would not cower when barked at. Small Man was doing a vocal belly-up, which was not at all reassuring.

"Fury, have you seen Black Hayate?" She only barked like that when very, very angry…Black Hayate cowered, hiding his nose under one paw.

"Why? Isn't he usually with you?" The Small Man was trying; it just wasn't his place to stand up to Her. Black Hayate couldn't really blame him. She was most definitely more dominant than the Small Man.

"Usually, yes. Today thought he decided to gnaw on my slippers. My favorite slippers."

They had looked so….fun….Black Hayate pressed his ears tight against his skull, ready to bolt.

"Oh." The Small Man said in a very, very small voice.

There was a very familiar clicking sound, one that sent a wave of fear through every inch of Black Hayate's furry body. With a yelp he bolted from his hidey hole, determined to run as far as possible as fast as possible.

Not fast enough.

He skidded to a halt as a sharp bang resulted in a smoking hole in the floor inches from his paws.

"Black Hayate. Come." Now she was snarling as well as barking…Black Hayate, his sense of self preservation informing him he was doomed either way, crawled back to Her, nose pressed firmly to the floor, eyes looking anywhere but Her direction. She cuffed him lightly. "Bad dog. No slippers. No!" The slippers really had been a terrible idea…but they had look so much like something meant to be gnawed on while growling in mock ferocity…well, he wouldn't do THAT again. After a moment she patted him on the head once. "Well, you ran off before I could feed you. Lets see what they are serving in the officers mess."

Food. Now that was better. He wagged his tail and trotted off behind her, pleased that he had gotten off with only one sharp bang today.


	22. Drabble the Twentysecond Fury and Havoc

_Disclaimer - fma is not mine. the apparent b/d is my little addition to that spectacular universe._

_and for the viewing pleasure of all those Havoc/Fury addicts we have Drabble the Twenty-second. i KNOW someone liked the idea of Fury in a collar, and i know I wanted fanart of it. so i kinda took the idea and ran with it a little more. so, **there is shonen ai and collars involved. before you read and flame me, decide whether or not that is your kind of gig**. -fireun_

* * *

It took Roy Mustang a moment or two of thought to determine just what it was about Cain Fury this morning that was…different. The sergeant major had always been small…had always been rather quiet…but had he always hunched his head down towards his neck like that? Had he always had that sort of harried look to his eyes? There was, most definitely, something wrong, and as Fury was one of his men, it was up to Mustang to determine what the problem was.

He approached the smaller man with a determined air, and paused as he neared where Fury sat at his desk. The collar of his uniform was turned up a bit; reminiscent of the way Mustang had seen men attempt to cover up rather telling and socially amusing bruises along the neck and throat region. Not that Mustang himself had ever sunk to such covert tactics himself…

Perhaps Fury had found himself a woman?

Mustang changed tactics, assuming a more companionable air as he moved to stand beside Fury's desk. "Fury." He acknowledged in a warm voice, smirking. "Are you feeling alright today?"

"F-fine, Colonel." Fury squeaked out after a sort of half aborted jump.

"Here, your uniform needs straightening. You never know when the Fuhrer will wander in. Don't want to look slovenly." Mustang reached over to smooth down the collar of Fury's uniform and brushed his hand against a….buckle? Mustang removed his hand and straightened, his smirk vanishing in place of a rather deadpan expression. "Fury, is there a reason why you are wearing a collar?"

"Nossir…" Fury mumbled, turning a fascinating shade of red.

"Yo! Cain!" Havoc sauntered into the office, unlit cigarettesecure in the corner of a cat-in-cream sort of smile, something held in his left hand. "Time for lunch!"

Fury cast one embarrassed glance towards Mustang before excusing himself and walking over to join Havoc, who slung one arm around the other mans shoulders and led him off.

Mustang wandered back into his own office, shut the door, and almost collapsed in a combination of hysterical laughter and perturbation. Havoc had been holding…a leash.


	23. Drabble the Twentythird A Moment

_Disclaimer - the author of this drabble is too tired to think of a creative or amusing way to say she doesnt own fma so please done sue her. thank you._

_Drabble the Twenty-third. i dont know what to say about this one. if you are into shonen ai, it reads like that very easily. i dont think that is what i was after...but then again the damn thing really wrote itself. i was just here to type. either way, methinks i like it._

* * *

It was just one of those things that happened, unplanned, leaving both parties completely at a loss, undecided if they should acknowledge what occurred or move on as if nothing at all had happened. Eyes met, flinched to the side- two individuals too proud to want to admit to anything.

That bastard meant nothing to him, was merely a tool, a way to gain access to resources not available to the general public. There was nothing else there. Were he to achieve his goal he would drop that irritating ingrate faster than a viper.

That insubordinate, irrational child meant nothing to him, was merely a tool in his struggle for the top. He didn't need him for anything else. When he was there, finally, he would have no more need for stepping-stones such as that.

They meant nothing to each other, but that morning, in the office, they couldn't meet each other's eyes, nor keep their eyes off of each other. It wasn't a planned thing, but sometimes things just happened.


	24. Drabble the Twentyfourth Roy and Havoc

_Disclaimer - the disclaimers really arent going to get any more interesting. i ran out of good ones somewhere about 12 drabbles ago...._

_Drabble the Twenty-fourth! another requested drabble topic. go Havoc!_

* * *

and this was the request- 

"I want havoc to one-up roy. very well. so effectively that mustang has no response but a brief moment of respect."

well, there wasnt a long moment of respect, but i am sure Roy is now more respectful of Havoc's skill in his own caustic sort of way...

* * *

This couldn't be happening. There was no precedent, no logic to it. At all. That was most definitely Jean Havoc, cigarette lose in a pleasant smile, as he engaged in what appeared to be intimate conversation with a woman. Not any woman, a beautiful woman. Stunning really, with long ginger hair, heart shaped face, and wide dark eyes. A smattering of freckles graced otherwise flawless cheeks and when she moved…it was a precisely elegant motion, nothing wasted, and it appeared effortless…natural…

It made no sense at all. Havoc was lanky, loud, smoked like a chimney, and was awkward as hell around women. How was he managing to lean towards her like that, grin winningly…

Roy blinked. He had seen that particularly smooth action before, that gesture as Havoc waved the woman forward and placed his hand gently on her own…He knew those moves…they were his. The bastard was using his own moves. And damn it all, he was doing it well. Roy reached for his phone, still staring out into the street where Havoc was, apparently, effectively wooing a very eligible female.

"Hughes." A familiar voice answered the phone, sounding intent and relaxed at the same time as only Maes could manage.

"Maes. Who is Havoc seeing?"

"I am assuming from that hitch in your voice that you have met Sasha." Maes' voice was warm with amusement.

"Met, no. I am seeing her now, and I think Havoc is going to….hell, Maes, he kissed her, and she is _blushing_! They aren't supposed to _blush _when Havoc tries to put moves on them!"

"I so hope you didn't have your eyes on that one, Roy old friend. I hear she is quite fond of our Havoc."

That was the nail in the coffin, that and the fact Havoc managed to slide an arm around her waist and she didn't even try and squirm away. Roy dropped the phone onto the desk and, pulling his skills together, hauled ass out of the office. This was war.

Havoc watched Roy approach, in full seduction mode, and grimaced. He hated it when Mustang did this. But, this time, the results wouldn't be what Roy expected. He saluted his superior officer, and introduced the interested Sasha. "This is Colonel Roy Mustang."

Her mouth formed a polite smile, nothing more. She even managed to lean a little closer to Havoc. "A pleasure to meet you, sir."

Roy tried every trick in his vast arsenal, but whatever it was that Havoc had done, he had done it well. Sasha just wasn't interested. At all. Well, a man knew when to admit defeat on the current battlefield. Roy nodded a goodbye at Havoc, who was grinning like a manic, placed a polite kiss on Sasha's hand, and yielded the day to his subordinate officer.

Once back in the office he picked the phone back up, knowing Maes would be waiting, most likely for no other reason than to poke fun at his friend. "Well, I have to give the man credit, Maes. He did learn from the best."

"That as close to a compliment as you are going to get, Roy?"

Roy looked back out his window, to where Havoc was now escorting the beautiful Sasha either towards her home or to dinner, and his only response to Maes was a rather nasty observation as to the state of Havoc's genital region, which of course set Maes into a bout of rather enthusiastic laughter.

"You really can be a piss poor loser, Mustang."

* * *

Animegoil - glad you are liking the drabbles! as for where i get the ideas...mostly through some cracked out AIM chats and my own twisty mindset.... That and fanart. dear god is there some amazing fma fanart out there...


	25. Drabble the Twentyfifth Roy and Ed

_Disclaimer - well, according to the designation of fanfic, i am acknowledging the fact i in no way own any wee little part of fma. so then. on with the adoring fangirl tribute!_

_**Animegoil** requested some Roy/Ed, and this is what popped out of my head. shonen ai folks. here there be shonen ai...and since i have really started to get interested in the pairing...well....it allows for angst and we all know i love angst. and fluff. fluffy bunnies...this one is angst though. and one bit of fluff. i was listening to "Let Go", by Frou Frou...and WHOOSH!a drabble. enjoy people. Drabble the Twenty-fifth. i can only assume that this is what happened directly before drabble 23. it just wrote itself backwards for some reason._

* * *

There were few things that were as odd as a glaring, intent, tearful Ed. The tears were so out of place on that defiant, _angry_ face, and as Roy figured it, as long as that anger stayed securely directed at the 'bastard colonel', Ed wouldn't have any time to be unhappy with _himself_.

It was a bit of strategic brilliance he was sure Maes would be proud of. It really was the least he could do to keep some sort of spark in those golden eyes. What he had never expected was that Ed would see through the little game with a bit of brilliance of his own.

"You fucking ass. You _need_ to be hated, don't you? Feel like you deserve it? You…_ass_." Those eyes were definitely sparking now, as Ed all but spat words at him, for once managing to keep his voice down.

It was rare, but even Roy Mustang could be struck speechless. He stared at Ed's form, standing there with fists clenched, legs slightly apart and braced for the physical fight that he always seemed to anticipate. Earlier tears completely forgotten Ed focused completely on the seething anger that even looking at Mustang seemed to inspire. "You idiotic, manipulative…." Ed sputtered, language eluding him.

"Bastard." Roy supplied in an oddly harsh voice. "The word you are looking for is bastard."

With a howl Ed let fly the punch he had been holding so tightly, slamming a thankfully fleshy fist into Mustang's cheek with a very satisfying thunk. Ed stood there, eyes glaring, panting with fury, a new set of tears wandering down his face.

Tears. That was the failure in Roy's eyes, his blunder. "I don't want to make you cry."

"Who's crying, bastard?" Ed snarled, hunching forward, hitting his head into the other's breastbone.

In the privacy of his office, Roy allowed himself to snake arms around the shaking form of the shorter alchemist, to hold lightly. His shirt was warm where Ed's tears wetted it, where Ed huffed ragged breaths.

"I don't hate you, bastard. I don't hate you at all. I don't want to." Ed growled against the solid, comforting support of Roy's chest.

Roy pressed his chin against the top of Ed's hair and held perfectly still, unwilling to startle Ed into moving away, needing the tangible affirmation of the other's presence. That hair, like gold melted down and spun into something far more precious and gentle, was so soft…Roy shifted just enough to press a kiss against that braided mane, feeling Ed start, go tense, and then almost grudgingly relax. "I'm sorry." Roy whispered, not at all referring to the kiss.

* * *

_"..There's beauty in the breakdown…" -Frou Frou, "Let Go"_

* * *

Humor Queen Merc - i am working on that wedding night drabble for ya!

Spades 44 - i have no idea what inspired me to write from the pup's point of view. maybe i was just sad that poor Black Hayate gets so little fanfic attention...no idea. i blame lack of sleep and not enough coffee. glad you liked the continued adventures of Havoc, Fury, and a cracked out idea involving a collar...i promised a friend i would write more. will get it up asap!

Animegoil - hope you liked! i will write some more Roy/Ed, as i am currently enthralled by the pair. dont know if i can do any Maes/Roy that is not a friendfic...i will work on it though. if you want, the pieces labeled "We" and "Pictures of You" that i wrote are both Hughes/Roy friendfics. as for fanart, give me a bit to gather some links and i can either email them to you or chat with you over AIM sometime. my AIM is Oro Seijuro


	26. Drabble the Twentysixth Riza

_Disclaimer - i no own. no sue._

_for **Humor Queen Merc**, who suggested a wedding night crack!drabble. this has crack and fluff. what more can a person want!_

* * *

Somehow Riza Hawkeye thought that marriage would change things. At least a little. There should be some sort of glow, some warm fuzzy content feeling that she was supposed to bask in. There had to be _something_ that made getting in and out of that god be damned dress worthwhile. She had refused to let him get married in his uniform, and in response he had informed her, in a very dry voice, that if he wasn't allowed in uniform then neither was she. He must have expected her to back down at that point, for he had been very surprised when she then demanded a color scheme for the wedding so she could pick out a dress.

She was out of the dress. She was married. She had had an excellent dinner, some fantastic cake, and had the pleasure of seeing Winry catch the bouquet at the reception, which had prompted a rather astounding blush from Alphonse. It had been, all in all, a fantastic evening. Even Riza liked to be fussed over every now and then…

There really was little else that changed. The marriage was a formal designator, nothing else really, no magical procedure that altered some essential facet of life. Some things would never change. She glanced over at a sleeping Roy, smiled a little at the peacefully happy expression on his relaxed face, at the way his hair was mussed and how his left arm was slung over his chest as he snored lightly. He really could be rather….adorable….

It was a damn shame he was a blanket hog. Even on her wedding night. Riza Hawkeye sighed, whistled Black Hayate over, and convinced him to settled down on the foot of the bed, then waited. That dog could never ignore the lure of feet…AHA! She watched Black Hayate paw his way underneath the blankets, watched Roy twitch a bit in his sleep…waited for the perfect moment…

Her strategy worked. She saw his hands unclench from their hold on the blankets, watched him start to roll over, and pulled. Blanket securely in hand she snapped, calling Black Hayate up away from the foot of the bed, patted him on the head and settled down to sleep. They were quirky males, Black Hayate and Roy Mustang, but they were hers. And maybe that was worth that dress.

Roy spooned against her with a sigh, and she smiled. Yeah, it was worth the dress. Even the lacey gloves Roy had talked her into as well. The shoes though…he would have to prove to her that those were worth it. Some other time though. Now, she was just too damn comfortable.


	27. Drabble the Twentyseventh Havoc and Fury

_disclaimer - fic is mine, characters are not._

_i had a good evening. so here is a fluffy drabble.  
Drabble the Twenty-seventh, cause the world needs more Havoc/Fury fluff._

* * *

Sometimes things just kind of…worked out, even when the participants didn't know there was anything to _be_ worked out. There hadn't been much build up, an introduction, sitting and chatting after work, getting tired, one leaning on the other…

And then the realization that was too tired to move, more than that…too comfortable. Hands trailed slowly, almost tentatively through his eternally mussed black hair, muttering an apology as a tangle snagged. Cain Fury inhaled deeply, taking in the stillness of the moment. He hadn't realized he was lonely, not really, not until that breath. It had taken that one thoughtless lean to the side, shifting his weight against the wiry form of Jean Havoc, that contact, to quietly inform him he had been missing something.

It had also occurred to him, a heartbeat later, that perhaps the sentiment was not shared. That was when a hand had awkwardly clasped his own, squeezed once, then held on lightly.

That was all the affirmation he needed. Cain had settled more comfortably against his companion, sighed in a content happiness as he had felt Jean start that uncertain stroking through his unruly hair.

It was a shame when it became late enough that both had to admit it was time to get out of the office, empty as it was apart from them, else they would be next to worthless at work the following day. They had hugged with an unfamiliar sort of lingering touch, not at all the utilitarian pats on the back they were used to. Jean had been whistling when he wandered off his own way, and Cain had been tingling with a pleasant warmth. They might have been groggy the next day, but they were smiling.

* * *

_a/n - it is 4am...i will respond to all the awesome comments in the next drabble. too tired to be coherent much right now!_


	28. Drabble the Twentyeighth Maes and Roy

_Disclaimer - see all the other disclaimers. i am assuming you read them at the begining of the other drabbles._

_presenting, rather belatedly as i have been out of town visiting family, drabble the twenty-eighth, which spawed completely from the first line while i was looking at some images in which Roy looked particularly cranky._

* * *

"You're not going to make any friends with an expression like that."

The words, and the arm slung companionably over his shoulders, were not only unexpected and unprecedented, but also unwelcome. "I am not trying to make friends." Roy snapped, not feeling at all patient or charitable that afternoon. He was tired of listening to inflated egos preen and the plain idiots attempt to make conversation. He jerked his shoulders back so as to remove the unwanted weight on his shoulders, and was more than a bit miffed to find his efforts thwarted by a rather forceful resistance.

"That's a shame, really. I enjoy making friends myself." The voice was heavy with a bizarre sort of humor as the arm tightened and then released, allowing Roy to whirl around and face his assailant. Pale eyes glittered with a sort of knowledge and acknowledgement for a moment behind square glasses before a more familiar jovial inanity reasserted itself. "Well, if you ever decide you would like something as frivolous as a friend, do let me know." The man saluted sloppily and sauntered off.

Roy watched him leave, his irritation replaced by contemplation. There had been a sort of recognition in the other man's eyes, an awareness of something in common. The smile, before it reverted to the full insanity that the man Maes was infamous for, held a certain sort of warmth, a genuine interest that ran deeper than lighthearted intent to meet and greet.

Something unfamiliar twitched at Roy's lips, the start of a bemused sort of smile, and he wondered if the older man liked brandy. Friends drank with each other after all, didn't they? It would be a start.

* * *

**Humor Queen Merc** - glad you liked!!!!!!!!!

**Animegoil** - thank you so much for all the encouragement and comments! they really made my day! glad you are enjoying reading these!


	29. Drabble the Twentynineth Maes

_Disclaimer - fma not mine. drabble mine. please dont steal drabble._

_This was the request - "Make mention of Maes' chin when Roy first sizes him up! It is, you know, his most prevalent feature". Drabble the twenty-nineth is the response. dont read while drinking something. i have been informed that that results in said beverage being spewed directly onto the computer monitor._

* * *

Maes Hughes stared in the mirror, intent. He turned to the left, paused and gazed. Turned to the right and did the same. There was the usual stubble…but nothing seemed out of place…or odd…He peered over the rims of his glasses, trying to figure out just what had sparked that particular reaction from Mustang. Pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose he straightened and frowned.

It was the same face he had always had. Nothing presented itself as something that should have set the younger man off like that. They had met for a drink, which Maes had taken as a positive sign. He liked the Mustang, liked his drive, his intensity, his odd sense of humor. The man was interesting, a welcome distraction from the bogging soul numbing day-to-day reality of military life. Mustang obviously, at least to Maes, needed a friend…

But what in merry hell had prompted Roy to, after a few drinks, take a long look at Maes, and begin to laugh. He had laughed hard enough to snort once or twice, had bent over double, and when Maes had inquired, rather stiffly, what was wrong, all Roy could manage was to point. At Maes' face.

Which led to him staring at the mirror in the men's room of the pub, trying to figure out what the hell it was Roy found so damn amusing.

The door opened with a plaintive creak as the source of Maes' consternation let himself in, grinning from ear to ear in a way only good brandy could instigate. Maes rounded on him, slightly unsteady from fine drinks himself, and growled "Spit it out man! What is so damn funny?!"

Roy's grin stretched another half inch or so. "Your chin, Maes. It defies logic." Then, chuckling with the humor of his own apparent joke, Roy ambled out of the restroom.

"When I suggested you start smiling a little, I didn't mean like _that_ at _me_." Maes griped at the other man's back.


	30. Drabble the Thirtieth Roy

_A birthday drabble to celebrate my own. it seemed appropriate!_

* * *

Fresh baked goods have a particular scent to them that manages to make the mouth salivate, eyes glitter, and completely ruin any attempt at brooding. Thus, when Maes plopped a cheerfully decorated box upon the table, and Roy's nose picked up the distinctive aroma of fresh apple pie, he found his brooding irrevocably disrupted. Which, if the smug sort of smile on Maes' face was any indication, was the mans plan all along. Roy set down his brandy and eyed the box. It was decorated. With ribbons. And was covered in a perky sort of wrapping paper.

"What is this?"

"Roy, Roy…I had thought you a more intelligent man. What does it look like?" When Roy just continued to stare at him, one eyebrow raised, in complete silence, Maes sighed. "It is a cake, Roy. A present from Gracia and I." He settled into a chair beside the slightly inebriated Roy.

"And why, pray tell, am I getting a cake?"

"Your birthday, you ass." Maes growled, pushing the merry box towards his friend.

"How the bloody hell did you know it was my birthday?!"

Maes grinned. "I am Intelligence, m'friend. It is what I _do_."

"If this is what you do with your position and the information you have access to, I fear for the future of our country."

"Fear for the future of your cake, cause if you don't eat it soon I _will_."

"Gracia baked it for me!" Roy retorted in a rather offended tone.

"AHA! Admitting it is your birthday. Excellent. Then I guess I can haul out the _real _gift." Grinning like a maniac Maes lifted a bottle from its hiding place by his feet. "This, my friend, is an insanely well aged bottle of wine. I was saving it." He set it on the table with a grave air. "I think it is older than Armstrong' mansion."

"Well, it would be a damn shame to let it go to waste…" Roy considered the bottle for a moment, and then broke out a crooked grin. Prying out the cork he inhaled the fruity and slightly tangy smell of a good vintage. Pouring into glasses provided by his friend, he met Maes' eyes and his face split into a full smile.

"To friends." Maes toasted, clanging his glass against Roy's.

"The best." Roy answered, closing his eyes to savor the feel of the moment, as well as the taste of the wine.

* * *

**Spades**, if you stop writing i will....oh, i dont know, something suitably drastic! you started the whole drabble addiction! dont take them awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

**Nymphia **- i am so glad you like the drabbles! i will work on some more ed for you! promise!

**DarkWarLordofDoomness** - colds are evil!!!!! updating as requested! -salute!-

**Animegoil** - does this count as more MaesRoy for you? they are my favorite to write about so you can count on there being more!


	31. Drabble the Thirtyfirst Roy and Maes

_Drabble the Thirty-first, something i never thought i would write - Maes/Roy shonen ai. i have this deep love of the Hughes family...and of the Roy/Ed pair...but methinks this came out rather nice. request from **Animegoil.**_

* * *

"You are drunk." Roy declared in a rather imperious tone, resting his chin atop clasped hands in an attempt to look more intelligent and less exhausted. The object of his contemplation sat across from him, forehead creased by a sort of half frown.

"I'm no' drunk." Maes muttered, pleased his words did not slur and therefore falsify his statement- they just sort of….drawled. His glasses sat beside him, folded carefully, leaving his worldview a comfortable, warm sort of hazy. Even the sharp features of the man across from him were gentled; some of the edge taken off of care lines and determined ferocity.

"Are too. You can't even talk straight."

Maes could tell from Roy's tone that the other man was scowling, drunk enough himself to be overbearing. Well, to be fair the man always acted overbearing. In public. Only when he was drunk, as well as tired, would Roy take that tone with Maes when they were in the privacy of either of their homes. It was a pain when Roy decided to act that way, and when Roy opened his mouth to chastise Maes again, Maes took matters into his own hands. He leaned forward and planted a kiss firmly on the younger mans mouth, tasting bitter whiskey and a slight hint of sweet amaretto.

"I don' know how you mix drinks like tha'." Maes huffed, sitting back.

"You are drunk." Roy whispered, uncertain. "And your glasses are off."

"I'll a'mit soon as you do." Maes replied.

Hands stretched across the table, the larger one far more sure of its goal, the smaller shy, tentative as to what it was doing without the familiarity of gloves. They met in the middle, brushed gently, caressing before entwining and settling quietly.

"Anyway, I don' need glasses to see you."

* * *

**Nymphia** - thank you!

**Animegoil**- here ya go dear. Maes/Roy shonen ai!

**Rukusho** - i am so glad you are liking them!


	32. Drabble the ThirtySecond Riza and Roy

_Drabble the Thirty-Second.another fantastically humorous ideafrom **Humor Queen Merc**. the suggestion, " Why don't you write a short drabble (or two) where Riza is pregnant and Gracia convinces the pair to babysit Elysia for practice." the result...read on!_

* * *

Roy stared at Elysia, then Riza, and then back at Elysia. He had to do what?!

"Just give her a bath, Roy. Fill the tub, plop her in, help her wash, towel off, and get her dressed. It really isn't that hard." Riza was running out of patience. Elysia was at that cute toddler stage where she either wanted to go everything herself or she wanted everything done for her. This evening, it was the latter, and Roy was not helping. For all his enthusiasm about creating a kid, he seemed to have no interest in actually maintaining one. She owed Gracia for letting her use Elysia as a sort of training for her errant husband. Gracia knewthe manhad a soft spot for her daughter, and she had been hoping to use that to Riza's advantage. She was a shrewd woman, Gracia Hughes, and Riza Hawkeye was no stranger to tactics either. "Mustang, how can you expect the men to listen to your plans and strategy if you cant even maneuver a child into a tub?"

That did it- a frontal assault on the man's pride never failed. His scowl deepened before splitting into a huge smile as he turned back to Elysia. "Bath time!" He crowed, swinging the giggling toddler into his arms and parading off towards the bathroom.

Forty minutes later he emerged, white shirt soaked through, his pants splashed in countless places, and a bit of soapsuds stuck to the side of his face. He deposited the cheery Elysia in Riza's arms and continued walking, determined to get away for at least a few minutes.

"Roy, I did tell you the doctor said it was going to be triplets, didn't I?"

To his credit, Roy managed to make it outside before howling in terror.

* * *

a/n - the image of Roy with suds on his face, holding Elysia...i wish i could draw....


	33. Drabble the ThirtyThird Hohenheim

_Drabble the Thirty-Third. damn do i have a soft spot for Hohenheim...._

* * *

Ed had fallen asleep at the desk again, head pillowed inelegantly partly on top of his own arms, partly on a book, most likely leaving the imprint of the volumes spine on his cheek. Hohenheim smiled gently even as he sighed, swinging his long coat off of his broad shoulders and placing it gently over Ed's slouched form.

He didn't want his son to catch cold.

There was something about this place, about Ed himself, that made the boy incredibly susceptible to all sorts of colds and flu's. Not that Ed did anything to try and keep from getting sick. He worked himself until his body decided it was the appropriate interval for some forced down time, which led to Ed falling asleep in all sorts of interesting and inappropriate places. Like at a desk in front of a slightly open window on an autumn night. As quietly as possible Hohenheim pulled the window closed. The library did manage to get stuffy. Ed had most likely wanted some fresh air earlier in the day, got caught up in studying, and simply forgot to close it or not noticed when the cold of the evening moved in.

When Ed was asleep it was possible, for a minute, to imagine that he was a proper father, taking care of an errant son. When he was asleep, Ed couldn't stare at him with those wide, accusatory eyes, couldn't argue, couldn't so much as turn away. He could dote on a sleeping Ed as much as he was inclined, even if all that was possible was making the young man as comfortable as possible and doing his best to preserve Ed's rather touchy health.

When Ed was asleep Hohenheim could brush one hand ever so gently across his son's cheeks, down long golden hair. Ed would never allow such attention awake, and it was torture to Hohenheim to have his son back but be unable to be a father to him. so long ago that face had smiled up at him after similar pats on the head, affectionate brushes of a calloused finger down an impish face. How easy it had been to lose his entire family…

Ed snorted once and moved, perhaps waking slightly, and Hohenheim took his cue to leave. It wouldn't due for Ed to wake and realize his father had been watching over him. It was bad enough he would wake up to realize he was warm and secure within Hohenheim's favorite coat.

Ed yawned himself awake, pulling his blanket tighter around him, then twitching as he caught a button in his fist. A coat. He blinked his eyes open to realize he was curled happily in the depths of his father's coat. Ed glanced around suspiciously, ready to toss aside the garment if the old man was there. Finding himself alone he wrapped himself in the coat's heavy fabric, breathing in the scent of his fathers soap and the earthy musk his childhood had been filled with. He closed his eyes against the sting of a tear or two. He was homesick. Not for the world on the other side of the gate, but his home, his family...

But damn if he was going to let that bastard old man see those moments ofyearning weakness.


	34. Drabble the ThirtyFourth Havoc

_Drabble the Thirty-Fourth, cause Havoc and Fury deserve more lovin!_

* * *

No cigs, no cigs, no cigs, nocigsnocigsnocigs…

It was a mantra, a study in self-control. All right, not so much self-control as a fear of the alternative. He didn't notice he was tapping a rather erratic and agitated rhythm onto his desk with the butt of his pencil, at least not until Ed snatched it out of his hands.

"Damn, Havoc, go have a smoke or something. You are driving me nuts."

Havoc shook his head in a violent negation. "Can't."

"Out? I am sure not even Hawkeye can argue with you needing to take a few minutes off from work to restock. You are next to worthless right now anyway."

"I can't." Havoc's voice held a definite desperate tone, almost as if he was wishing Ed would just let the matter drop. The thought of running quick to pick up a pack of smokes…it was just too tempting.

"Why the hell not?!"

Havoc turned bloodshot eyes towards Ed, who noticed the nic-fitting man had most definitely developed some sort of…tic in the left eye. "Fury." Havoc grated out. "He said if I continue smoking he would just rather kiss the dog." At Ed's blank look he supplied, helpfully, "the breath is better."

There really was no good way to reply to that, so Ed didn't. He just kind of…backed up. Havoc was desperate for cigarettes, and desperate for the attention of Cain Fury. It appeared that he had granted Fury priority. Some addictions were easier to get over and go on without.

* * *

**Humor Queen Merc** - horray! you liked! thank you again for the drabble suggestion! they are always a blast!

**Animegoil** - huzzah! glad you liked that one. it wasnt a forced drabble at all! it is just a pairing i have not put as much thought into. i DO adore those two though. andthe pairing isreally starting to grow on me...

**Lluvia-the-wolfgirl** - i have this HUGE soft spot for Hohenheim, and the demented sort of relationship he and Ed have...there need to be more fluffy attention paid to those two.

**Jeva** - triplets...can you see Roy trying to figure out what the merry hell to do with triplets?! glad you liked!


	35. Drabble the ThirtyFifth Roy and Riza

_Drabble the Thirty-fifth. another amusing and inspirational request from Humor Queen Merc! in which Riza is in labor and further evidence is presented as to Gracia being a saint._

* * *

Roy Mustang liked to think of himself as an experienced man, a worldly man. He liked to think that he had seen a lot in his lifetime, not in the sense that he was jaded, but that he had at least some sort of working knowledge of how things went. It gave him the upper hand in situations that might cause others to flinch or falter.

He was a strong man, had seen battlefields and genocide, seen all sorts of unnatural monstrosities, and survived them all. He liked to think that that should make the rest of life smooth sailing.

Unfortunately battlefield slaughter was nothing like the hectic sort of urgency that was the maternity ward of a hospital. It didn't help that _his_ woman was the one in question here, not some nameless individual or creature or even one of his beloved subordinates. His woman was in pain, was suffering, and if one paid attention to technicalities with the same not _quite _obsessive flair that he did, it really was Roy's fault that she was in this predicament in the first place.

Riza had that same stoic acceptance on her face as she usually did when watching some sort of antic on her husband's part, but in this case she was trying rather desperately to think of some way to get him to leave. Completely. So she could attempt to work on breathing without his near-hysterical help.

"Breathe. Remember how the nurse told you."

"Roy."

"That really doesn't seem to be deep enough. Are you getting enough air?"

"Roy…"

"Are you feeling alright? Should I call for some more medicine?"

"Roy!" she really wanted her pistol. Damn them for being appalled at the idea of a weapon in a hospital. Nothing got his attention like the comforting click of a safety, and she really wanted his attention just now…

"Was that a contraction? I can't remember what the nurse said about timing those…"

"Mustang." Some of that pistol snap must have been tangible in her voice, for Roy stopped and fixed his attention on her face. Riza took a deep breath, let it out slowly against the pain in her abdomen and gritted her teeth into a feral sort of smile. "Could you call Gracia please? I am sure she could let you know what to do."

This was, apparently, the most fantastic idea to ever cross through Roy Mustangs mind. His eyes near lit and he nodded a few times with the enthusiasm of one of Cain's myriad of puppies. Riza watched him scramble from the room, waiting until he was completely gone before sagging back in relief. Gracia would understand. She had dealt with _Maes_. And if luck went her way, Gracia would keep Roy occupied long enough for Riza to convince her son to hurry the hell up and get this whole damn operation over with. She loved her husband but sometimes he really could overreact. It was only a baby, after all. Seriously, after everything else they had dealt with through the years, this should be _easy_.

* * *

_a/n - you people are awesome. it is always a pleasure to read my reviews. and some of you have been reading these things like clockwork! thus is my motivation to continue fed and nutured! danke!_

_**Mortari **- i am glad you are enjoying the drabbles! i am having a blast playing with pairings myself. i like some of them better than others, but they are ALL proving enjoyable to write. the series just has such good characters!_

_**Animegoil **- ya know...i have no idea where i got the whole 'merry hell' thing from. i know i have been saying it for years, i just dont know when i started! -sweatdrop-_

_**Humor Queen Merc** - again with the awesome drabble idea! you are my roy humor muse apparently! you deserve a badge! _


	36. Drabble the ThirtySixth Roy

_Drabble the Thirty-Sixth! another request! (thank you all! these are a blast!)_

* * *

Mustang stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the bullet hole marring the wall between him and the girl he was intent on pursuing. Where the hell had that come from?! He glanced about, seeking some sort of movement or the glint of sunlight on equipment that would give away his assailant. Nothing. Whoever it was was indeed skilled.

"Colonel?" They flushed, uncertain Ashley inquired.

"It is nothing. Must be some of my men practicing. There is a firing range very near here." Roy lied smoothly, not wanting to upset her. He took a step forward, intent on comforting her with a soothing pat or three as well as with words.

A second bullet hole joined the first. Then a third. Roy shot a scathing glare at the buildings around him. What was going on?

"Colonel, I really must be going." Ashley curtseyed politely, and walked off at a fair pace, obviously spooked by the silent gunfire.

Mustang investigated the area for a moment more, considered walking after Ashley and her nice legs, was stopped by another skillfully placed bullet before he had gone two steps, and made a tactical decision. Time to go see if Maes wanted to join him for a drink.

From his rooftop position, Havoc smiled smugly, and began to carefully pack up his gear. Time to get home and prepare for his date scheduled for the evening. By the time he was halfway to his apartment he was whistling, cigarette held at an almost jaunty angle in his mouth. Hawkeye was right. Sometimes the direct approach was in fact enjoyable as well as preferable. He wondered if Ashley liked roses. Maybe he would stop for some on his way over to pick her up tonight.

* * *

_the original request was that i write something in which Havoc actually snipes something. i think this fills that_.

_**Mortari **- watch out. drabbles are addictive. i am addicted to Spades 44's drabbles...._

_**Jeva**- from what i have seen others write, and have written myself, about Roys spoiling Elysia, i think we had better hope he had boys lest we get another Maes!_

_**Humor Queen Merc** - you inspire the drabble!bunnies! -runs off to write!-_

_** Haibane-no-Rakka** - More Havoc/Fury coming up!_

_**via-chan** - Riza is....unique like that._


	37. Drabble the ThirtySeventh

_how the hell did i get to write 37 of these?! whew. well, have a few more planned out at least, and the ideas do hit harder than Izumi in a bad mood...so there is no end in sight. i hope people keep enjoying them cause i cant seem to get rid of 'em! -fireun_

* * *

"What am I going to do with you?" the words, though spoken quietly as insurance against waking the rooms sleeping occupant, were warm, rich with the crooked smile gracing the speaker. Roy was draped inelegantly over his desk, pen still in hand. It was a wonder the cleaning staff hadn't poked him into wakefulness yet.

'_Probably waiting for me to show up. The short leash he keeps his infamous temper on doesn't bother me in the least.' _

Not that he had actually set anyone unlucky enough to wake him on fire _yet_…even the slim possibility made most leery of chancing it. Maes knelt at Roy's side, placed a careful hand on the other shoulder and shook gently. "I know you want to gain a rank or three, old man, but I don't think hoping the reports will be absorbed into your sleeping brain will help." Roy twitched awake, the glint in his eyes spelling a rather messy death for whomever had startled him.

"Maes." Roy snarled, the glare becoming more heated, if that were possible.

"I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something?" Insert knowing wink, watch Roy's left eye twitch…

"What time is it?" Roy muttered, trying to change the subject, resigned to Maes' usual antics.

"So late that even that Hawkeye has given up and gone home for the night." Maes tilted his head to the side. "Got your eyes on the new recruit, pal?"

"Shut up, Maes."

"Do I ever, Roy?" There was a definite sparkle in Maes' eyes, a gleeful contrast to Roy's almost embarrassed irritation.

"Now would be an excellent time to start…damn it man, how the hell did you get promoted?" Roy noticed the extra marks on his friend's sloppy uniform.

"My constant hard work." Maes preened.

"Hard work my ass." Roy scoffed, trying to hide a smile. it was hard to stay aggravated when his friend looked so happy.

"Well, you still rank me, sir." Maes saluted. "Watch out though, I am creeping up on you!"

"Maes, the day _you_ manage to climb above _me_ is the day I just give up."

"I can't support you from above, old man. Don't worry about that. Anyway, maybe if you _worked _more and _slept_ less…."

Roy threw a punch, which Maes dodged with a laugh. "Ass."

* * *

_**Mortari **- drabbles: more addictive than crack. glad you are still enjoying these cracked out things!_

_**Nemu** - yay! glad you like them!_

_**Jeva** - the smoking man with the gun might have his own set of drabbles soon, since our rp!Havoc demands the attention, and people seem to like sniper!havoc_

_**Animegoil** - i think mustang knew what was going on, and knew the man with the gun is damn good with that gun....so the rational response would be back away slowly, kick ass later. at least that made sense in my head...._


	38. Drabble the ThirtyEighth

_well...people asked for more Ed. i just dont know if this is what they had in mind!_

* * *

It was a rare event, Mustang not being in the office, even more so for him to have left Central altogether without much warning. Havoc was at a loss as to what to do, Fury was trying to cheer everyone up, Hawkeye was stalking about seething, and Ed was…well, irritated at having been left behind.

He reported to the Colonel's office just as if it had been a normal day, plopped down on his usual place on the couch, and glared at the empty desk. "Bastard." The insult definitely lost most of its punch when directed at an absent figure. Ed shifted in restless agitation, wishing the colonel had at least offered to let him come along. They usually made these trips together…

Damn the man for leaving. Ed leapt to his feet and stomped his way to the desk. Well, Roy wasn't here to see the insult, but what the hell. Ed settled himself into Roy's favorite chair and put his feet up on the Colonel's immaculate desk. Hah. That would teach him. Getting some mud on the desk, maybe scratching it in a place or two.

It was about then that Ed noticed how comfy the chair was, plush in all the right places while still remaining firm enough to support areas that tended to ache after long hours spent sitting. Ed had discovered what was definitely the secret to Mustangs success, or at least his damnably calm façade. How could one not be calm when sitting in this divine piece of furniture!

Mustang returned that evening, dusty from the trip, tired, and needing to file some papers before hauling himself home for a shower. He turned on the light to his office, paused, and smiled. Ed was sprawled in his chair, snoring lightly, feet propped on the edge of the desk in a position that had most definitely driven all the circulation from the one limb that still required blood flow.

"How much closer did you have to pull that chair so your feet would reach the desk?" He inquired.

"WHO IS SO SHORT HE NEEDS A HIGHCHAIR TO REACH THE TABLE TO EAT?!?!?!!" Ed howled, coming awake at the insult.

"Could you move the chair? I need to get to the drawers." Mustang spoke around a yawn.

Radiating sleepy, insulted fury, Ed leapt from the chair and glared at the Colonel. "You left without me."

"I am too tired to argue with you today Edward. And I am desperately in need of a shower."

"I will make coffee. You will shower. Then we can argue."

"Great. Now you plan out confrontations. My life is complete." Mustang affected an all-suffering air as he shoved his papers into an already overloaded drawer and stood with a groan. "Though, if you are going to make coffee, I suppose I can make time for a good bout of verbal combat…Lets go. I want to get the walk home done and over with."

"You could call for a ride?"

"No, thank you, I don't want to have to explain why you are accompanying me home when everyone KNOWS a shower is at the top of my priority list."

Ed smirked in response, and started out the door. He had things he didn't want to explain either…like how the faint scent of Mustangs aftershave had lulled him to sleep in the older man's chair.

* * *

**Mortari **- i have indeed watched the entire series. over and over. and over. so as to make music videos. and watch it with friends. and watch the dub....verily, i am in love with the series. -sweatdrop-

**Humor Queen Merc -** your sick!riza drabble should be next. i think i have all the other crack!bunnies under control for right now....glad i am continuing to amuse!

**Animegoil** - the little everyday scenes are my favorite to write.

as always, i blame the continued existence of the drabbles on the esteemed **Spades 44 **and her utterly fantastic drabbles.


	39. Drabble the ThirtyNineth Riza

_another request from the esteemed Humor Queen Merc. i think i kinda mucked it up though... -fireun_

* * *

Riza Hawkeye was sick. She was stuck at home.

It was infuriating.

She wanted to be in the office, making sure things got done and getting them done herself. She wanted to make sure Breda wasn't spiking the coffee, Maes wasn't terrorizing the mundanes, Havoc wasn't smoking outside of the lounge, and Fury wasn't bringing pets to work again. She wanted some way to get Mustang out of her apartment and back into the office so at least someone was getting work done. Or at least before he broke something.

"You should have some soup." Roy's voice wafted out of the kitchen.

"I'm sick, Mustang, not dying. You should get back to work."

"Gas stove, hmm? Where's the pilot light…ah, never mind…this should work…."

Riza enjoyed one agonizing moment of 'oh, shit…' as she opened her mouth to shout "ROY! NO!" before there was a fantastic explosion which not only shook her bedroom, but most likely terrified the other people living in the building.

Roy wandered out of the kitchen and into Riza's bedroom, usually immaculate uniform singed and his face a smeared with what appeared for all the world to be chicken soup.

"Roy…" Riza managed through gritted teeth.

"I am going to clean the kitchen and then head back to work. I will send Fury over later to check in on you…" Roy spoke in a bland voice, staunchly ignoring the fact that there was a noodle looped over his left ear.

"Thank you, sir." Riza saluted, grimacing as she felt another bout of congested coughing threatening.

"You should get some rest." Roy saluted and retreated, noticing how Riza's hand kept twitching towards her nightstand, and her gun.

* * *

_**Humor Queen Merc** - i am so sorry this one sucks! -dies- i will do better on the next one. really i will!!!!!!!!! -bowgrovelbow-_

_**Roane the Alchemist** - dear god...you read all the disclaimers?! you are far more patient than i, and i wrote the damn things! glad you enjoyed the drabbles! i shall start on another alphonse drabble! -salute!-_

_**Mortari **- this count as Roy/Riza? i dont know how much ed/winry i will write as i personally adore al/winry...._

_**Sozuki** - yeah...there are a lot of them, arent there....-scratches head- they keep multiplying when i am not paying attention..._

_ok. hopefully the crack!bunnies will be healthier once i have a day off from work...it has been a loooooong week straight of retail so far....i blame the innane awefulness of this drabble on brain melting mall employment. thank you all, as always, for the comments and the love!-fireun_


	40. Drabble the Fourtieth Havoc and Fury

_Disclaimer - did anyone think my lack of ownership would change due to sheer volume of drabbles? nope. sadly fma is still beyond poor little me. all i can do is mess with it a litte._

_it is so cold in my apartment right now i am having trouble typing. gah!  
the drabble brought to you by polite nudging from ther much loved Spades 44. next on the menu, Alphonse-fireun_

* * *

Damn but it was cold. Havoc fumbled for a cigarette, hoping the tiny flame at the end would do at least something to warm his hands. Cig successfully in place he tried for a match with fingers that felt about twice their normal size. Cold did the damndest things to sensory perception, and it cost him a match or three dropped after an unsuccessful attempt at manual dexterity before he spat the cig out in frustrated disgust.

This just wasn't his day.

He stood at a parade rest, reliving every instant of the lost bet that had led to him taking this shift at the ass end of the day, when it was cold enough to freeze off a man's ba….

His thought trailed off, distracted by the smell of what he could swear was warm chicken soup. No. Couldn't be. It had to be some sort of cold induced hallucination. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and snapped to attention, relaxing only when he saw Fury's rumpled form making its way in his direction, carrying a thermos.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, little one?" He grinned through frozen lips at Fury, who took the opportunity to shove the thermos into his hands.

"I know how you hate the cold. So I brought you some soup." Fury smiled quietly, and then pried mittens off of his hands. "Here." When Havoc just blinked at him Fury sighed, taking back the thermos for a moment to pull Havoc's hands into the mittens, which were warm with the smaller man's body heat.

Which gave Havoc an idea.

Ignoring the thermos for a moment he hauled Fury into a tight embrace. "You are warm." He explained in response to Fury's surprise. They spent a few long, very unregulation, moments like that, until Havoc pushed Fury away with a playful grin. "Get home, little one. I will see you soon as this damn guard shift is over."

* * *

_well damn. 100 reviews! danke!_

_**Mortari** - dear god, you were reading the disclaimers as well? they had more crack than some of the drabbles! and it is not so much that i dont like ed/winry as i reaaaaaaaaaaaaally love Al/Winry for some reason...just seems such an adorable pair...i will see about getting some Ed/Winry in here sometime soon for ya though. anything in particular you are after?_

_**Roane the Alchemist** - next time in the drabbles...some adorable Al! just for you! just needed to get this one up for Spades. -Salute-_

_**Spades 44** - you dont have to review ALL the time. i mean, i am pretty spotty on reviewing yours even though i real all of them with a sort of religious zeal..._

_**Orenji** - glad you like! welcome to the insanity!_


	41. Drabble the FourtyFirst Al

_Disclaimer, revived edition - the disclaimers are more creative than the drabbles. i own the drabbles and the disclaimers. i dont own the characters in the drabbles. i am not that lucky._

* * *

"I am sorry, but I don't think brother will let me keep you."

No matter how many times he tried to explain it, the kitten just stared back up at Al with wide green eyes and purred. It was the purring that did him in, that and the adorable way the kitten kept rubbing its head all along Al's hand, affectionately scent marking.

"Alright. I will ask. Just don't get upset with me if he says no."

Kitten held gently in his hands, Al wandered over to where he had seen Ed last, reading on his stomach in the grass soaking in sunlight, and stopped dead. Ed lay where his brother had left him, but had shifted onto his back, and had apparently fallen asleep, book resting across his face in a position that was less for reading and more for blocking sunlight.

What had Al dumbfounded though was the presence of a cat curled happily atop his brother's stomach. And the fact that Ed had one hand resting on the cat in a most companionable fashion. He looked at the kitten settled in his hands. "Hey, maybe he wont mind so much after all…You don't mind traveling, do you?"

* * *

_**Roane the Alchemist** - there! some Al with kitties! and a little Ed thrown in for good measure. _

_**Mortari** - Roy/Riza is one of my favorite pairings to write about. they are so...adorable-ducks gunshots and flame-_

_**Humor Queen Merc** - sap you say? methinks i can do that...i am about due for some Roy/Riza cuteness...plot!bunnies! they are attacking!_

_**Animegoil** - if you write some, let me know!_

_the bunnies are back, and i am pleased. -fireun_


	42. Drabble the FourtySecond Hohenheim

_Look ma, no angst! really! just some Hohenheim and Ed-as-kid fluffiness. I abuse these guys so much i thought maybe they deserved a happy hundred words or so. ya know, just to be nice... -fireun_

* * *

Hohenheim scratched his head in bemusement; sure he had seen his son scamper off in this direction. What surrounded him was the quiet burble of a steam, the sough of the slight summer breeze…no Edward.

"Now, where could he have g…umph!" His breath was knocked out of him as a small shape hurled onto his back in some sort of air born stealth attack. Tiny arms clutched at his shirt in an attempt not to continue downwards to the grass below as a high voice chortled in amused victory. "You imp!" The words were more of a booming laugh than anything else as Hohenheim reached around and snagged the child, swinging him way up into the air. High and deep laughs mingled until both were dizzy from their exuberant cavorting. Hohenheim collapsed onto the ground, son cradled on his chest, a huge, silly grin smeared across his face.

Edward took the opportunity to stick his tongue out at his father, and them squirmed like a monkey to get free. Hohenheim managed to plop a kiss on Edwards forehead, which incited a small riot as the boy squealed and struggled, affronted as only the young are by such shows of affection. Hohenheim allowed Edward his freedom, and a moment or two of scrambling off, before growling like a bear and beginning to lumber after the toddler.

"Ed! Hohenheim! Lunch time!" Trisha's voice drifted through the trees.

Father looked at son, and both of them grinned. "Race?" Hohenheim asked.

Edward smirked and streaked off, obviously assenting, and just as obviously determined to win.

* * *

_**Spades 44** - i am continually glad you like the havoc/fury i write, since you are my hero in that regard-salute- your havoc/fury bits...so good...you really are a fantastic writer! wish i had the time to review all of the stuff you post. stupid suicide combination of work and grad school...  
and i might have a lot of these damn things in a short period of time...but some of them are just plain crack. crack i say!  
"Little One" really is the most adorable nick name for Fury ever. go Havoc!_

_i didnt reply to everyone...i am sorry! will next drabble...tis getting late and i have work in the morning. -fireun_


	43. Drabble the FourtyThird Ed

_disclaimer - no alchemists were abused in the writing of this drabble. _

_this drabble brought to you by some pretty fanart i saw last night and the fact i really want a backrub. -fireun_

* * *

Not that he would ever admit it, but Edward Elric adored having his back rubbed. There was something in the primal recesses of his mind that was addicted to the feel of hands soothing along his spine, digging into neglected muscles in the small of his back. The nape of his neck was another excellent place to feel the patient rub of practiced hands…right up to the base of his skull…working stressed muscles into an almost liquid state of contentment.

Ed really was some sort of sensualist at heart, leaning into caressing hands with the blunt appreciation of a cat, his whole body tending to arc as his eyes slid half shut. Once he got to that state of mind, an intensely relaxed hazy sort of bliss, there would be a constant vocal accompaniment to any sort of back rubbing. Not quite a purr, but not quite a word, it was a deep, rumbling sort of appreciation, and it never ceased to bring an honest smile to Roy Mustangs face.

It really was good to hear something that _happy_ coming out of Ed's mouth, even if he had to work the smaller alchemist into a semi-conscious state to accomplish this. Roy was a man of goals, and as Ed leaned in an encouraging way into the gloveless hands working out a particularly pronounced knot, that growling, pleased sound rumbling its way out of slightly parted lips, Roy considered this mission a success.

* * *

_**Humor Queen Merc** - i really like to think of hohenheim as having been a good father. ed had to have really loved him to hate him so much later...at least that is how i see it. addicted to hohenheim and proud of it! wheee!_

_**VampssAmby10210 **- well, it is implied more than anything else, but i was hoping this counted as Roy/Ed fluffy goodness. i adore Roy/Ed, so i am rather easy to encourage to write more drabbles with that in mind. -grin- thank you so much for the review-love- and welcome to the insanity!_

_**Animegoil** - Hohenheim wanders into the anime real late...somewhere in the 40's i think...worth the wait though. the man is amazing on so many levels. -heart- most of the family related stuff comes out at that point. lot of the good ol' ed and hoho disfunctionality. hurrah!_

_**Jeva **- hoho papa is love. -huggles- i totally understand the whole school thing... heh, i write the drabbles to relax, though i really should be doing the readings and papers for class...-grin-_

_**Mishie** - thank you for the review! that last drabble really was a pure fluff!bunny attack. i am so glad you liked!_


	44. Drabble the FourtyFourth Ed

_the taisa is going to KILL me for this one..._

* * *

There were a few things in life that made Edward Elric inordinately happy. His brother. Alchemy. Pulling Mustang off his high horse.

Most definitely pulling Mustang off of that damn high horse. Any feat was worth wiping that overbearing, over confidant, smug as hell, grin off of that face. Which is why he had his trump card, his one never-fail tactic for winning when it came to dealing with Mustang. It was his one glorious secret, a technique to be used sparingly lest it lose its impact…but damn was it worth the facial expression…and the after effects.

Which is how Ed found himself grinning at a half-awake Mustang early in the morning. Mustang pre-coffee was always an amusement. Mustang pre-coffee, shirtless, with a sultry sort of pout on his half awake face was bliss.

"The hell are you doing up so early?"

Ed leaned on the kitchen counter. "I made you some coffee."

Roy was caught in an awkward position. On one hand, he really wanted that cup of coffee Ed held so tantalizingly close…and yet a small corner of his mind was trying to remind him that this was _Ed_. Being _nice_. In the _morning_. He either wanted something or was about to do something that Mustang might not appreciate. In the end the slightly bitter, enticing smell of coffee and the wakefulness it promised won out. He reached forward, forced to lean as Ed pulled the coffee back _just _so, and then yelped in aggravated surprise.

Ed smirked in satisfaction, his day off to a magnificent start as he took a good long look at the dazed expression on a pleasantly stunned Roy's usually calm and controlled features.

It had truly been a blessed day when he had found out how sensitive Roy's ears were. Especially if he could be tricked close enough so that Ed could nip one quickly and watch Roy go from sensitive ticklish to something...quite different.

Roy snagged the coffee with a snarl and stalked to a chair, landing with a disgruntled thump. Coffee…coffee would settle him down…he took a look at the basking Ed, and had to return his attention to the swirling black in his mug almost immediately. The younger alchemist was shameless as a whore…lounging against the counter like that…

"Have a good day, Mustang." Ed all but purred, slinking out the door and leaving Roy to some rather frustrated thoughts. Damn he hated it when Ed teased…

* * *

_**Mortari** - YAY! you are back-throws a party- hmmm...can you pass some of that sugar? i could use the kick._

_**Animegoil** -i looooove backrubs...had a lot of fun writing that last one. i am glad the imagry worked out! i will see what i can do about one involving hair..._

_**Arahazi** - aight! some Al/Winry coming right up!_

_**DarkWarLordofDoomness** - damn, and i thought i lost a lot of socks to the dryer gremlins...well, if it is worth a sock or three, i will keep fighting the good fight! onward with ye olde drabbles! glad you are continuing to like them!_

_**Psycho 24** - i really like writing the Roy/Riza ones, so expect more! happy you like them!_

_**Lady Dragon** - Envy/Ed, eh? i will see what i can do! glad you like the drabbles! they have been hilarious good fun to write!_

_**Jeva** - its ok. i use the lj FMA community speak in actual conversation. i really should be shot. -snerk- anyway, smexy is an awesome word! i am proud to have it applied to something i have written!_

_**Lochoko** - yay! glad you like the drabbles! welcome to the insanity! roy/riza and roy/maes...i think it is a fair bet that you will see more of both. though my current prey is roy/ed...-sheepish-_

_holy shit, i cant believe the reviews and support i am getting from everyone. this is absolutely amazing! thank you all so much. it really makes my day to come home from work and see all of your comments! huge GLOMPS for everyone! everyone i say! and let the insanity continue-fireun_


	45. Drabble the FourtyFifth Fury

_i have nothing to say in self defense regarding this one...so i will just sit in the corner here and hang my head in a sort of shame...-fireun_

* * *

"Hughes, sir?"

Maes Hughes peered about, trying to determine the source of the unsteady squeak that had been someone speaking his name. Pushing his glasses firmly in place on his nose he regarded the only other individual in the hall, a rather mortified looking Fury who was apparently doing his best impression of a hunchback.

"Fury. What can I do for you?" Hughes blinked, waited, and then sighed. "Cain, what the hell is wrong?"

"Well…I kind of have a favor…since you have a wife and all…" Fury stammered and stalled, not really getting anywhere, in a conversational sense.

He was definitely getting somewhere on the going-to-get-cuffed (affectionately, of couse!) scale though. In Hughes' eyes, what had worked on Mustang would most likely work on the smaller man. And a good cuff had always managed to snap Roy out of whatever funk was keeping him from coherent conversation. "Fury. Please tell me what you want." Patient…fathers had to be patient…give him one last chance…

As opposed to speech, Fury just shoved a small bag in Hughes' general direction, keeping his eyes downcast. "Can you see if Gracia can fix this?"

Curious, Hughes took the bag and peered in. Then closed it with nothing more than a loud rustle of paper. "Sergeant. One of the dogs get loose again?"

"No…actually…Havoc…."

"Right then. I will ask Gracia to try and sew the lead back on. Can't have a dog without its lead and collar. Leash laws and all that…" Hughes babbled amicably, backing up, that manic smile firmly in place. If there is one thing he never wanted to know, it was how the hell Fury and Havoc had managed to tear a leather collar where the lead attached…and Maes Hughes was an intelligent man. If he didn't get away from Fury it was something he was going to hear, either through Fury's own rush of embarrassed babble or his own damning curiosity.

Though, this did explain that…amused look on Havoc's face this morning. It was the same face Roy made every time he got back from a date that he thought he had actually passed by the staff as a 'business meeting'.

Oh shit…he was going to have to try and explain the collar, lead, and necessary repairs to Gracia…who was more likely than not going to try and improve the damn thing. Somewhere dead center between hilarity and terror, Maes Hughes began to whistle wondering just how pleased Fury was going to be with the repairs…

* * *

**Animegoil** - Mustang and Ed interaction is always fun to write. i am glad you liked the last one there. it was damn fun to write. just wait...Mustang will get his revenge...oh he will...-cackles manically-

**Lochoko** - i can SO see Ed doing that to Mustang. and as i said to Animegoil...wait for it. Mustang is planning his return fire. he is cunning like that. bwahahah!

_more (implied) Fury/Havoc antics, brought to you by the fact i have been reading more of Spades 44's drabbles. hurrah Spades! hurrah-fireun_


	46. Drabble the FourtySixth Roy

_thank you all for tolerating my beloved slashy antics. here is some RoyAi for all the people who asked so nicely! i love you allllllll-fireun_

* * *

"Maes old friend…how _do_ I do this?" Roy cast a baleful glance at the photo of a smiling Maes that sat in a place of honor on his dresser before looking back up into the mirror and continued to attempt to get his tie done perfectly. It looked good…

It was odd to be putting this much thought into getting dressed, to prepare for an evening out that actually _counted_. This was not just another conquest, a pleasant yet meaningless way to pass the time and reassert his humanity. This _mattered_, and that in itself had his stomach in knots. Very adolescently embarrassing knots. No man his age should feel this nervous about dinner with a woman.

"The hell are you laughing at?" He muttered at the photo of his friend, knowing that Maes would be collapsing in amusement were he there in reality not just spirit.

Then again, there really was something funny about this whole situation. Roy Mustang, who was rumored to have more victories in the womanly arena than the battlefield, was as worked up as a virgin on his first date. It was funny, until Roy thought on the woman, and a smile soft with genuine affection broke through the smirk. _She _mattered.

He smoothed down his tie for about the thirty-fourth time, straightened his shirt, and took a deep breath. "Well Maes, I am off. Wish me luck."

Grabbing the flowers carefully wrapped against the evening chill and letting himself out of the apartment he wondered if Riza liked roses.

* * *

_...i just worked a 12 hour shift...sorry all but i am exhausted. will respond to comments in the next drabble!_


	47. Drabble the FourtySeventh Fury

_Disclaimer - this is full of fluff. obscene levels. it may cause you to making ambarrassing cooing noises or otherwise go all fangirly. it happens. think of me. i wrote the damn thing. -fireun_

* * *

It was hard to act like nothing was different, that nothing had happened to change the almost hectic sort of schedule that made up the lives of the soldiers serving under Colonel Mustang. It was almost impossible to settle the anticipatory butterflies that trembled to life every time his mind managed to wander even a bit.

He would catch a glimpse of a grinning face, catch even a whiff of cigarette smoke, and he could feel his face heat up…and damn it, he knew people were noticing….

He was trying so hard to pretend like nothing had changed, that he had not collapsed into someone's arms last night with a desperate sort of intensity. That he hadn't fallen asleep with someone else's chin resting on top of his head.

Fury was trying, he was giving it a soldier's very best, but he wasn't fooling anyone. And when Havoc stopped beside his desk, and mussed his hair affectionately, they at least had the tact not to tease or laugh at Fury's flushed face, the absolutely ecstatic look on his youthful features.

Maybe it was because they also all caught a glimpse of the utter devotion hiding amidst the amused affection glittering in Havoc's eyes.

"Hey, you. Wanna get some lunch?" At Fury's happy nod, Havoc gave him a hand, hauling him out of the desk chair, and applying a technically unnecessary hand to the small of Fury's back for a moment.

After all, Havoc was having trouble pretending as well.

* * *

**Animegoil** - oooh! dragon knights-love-

_it has finally happened. either the drabbles are shit lately or i am outwriting my readers...maybe i should try sleeping at night instead of plodding merrily along on these things...as always, the continuing Havoc/Fury is for the amazing Spades-sama-fireun_


	48. Drabble the FourtyEighth Al and Hughes

_Disclaimer - the fault for this one lies upon a trip to the mall in which a conversation about this little situation started up. much laughing ensued. and then a drabble. stupid bunnies wouldnt let me get to bed until i had written. i am not all all responsible for the crack in this drabble. AT ALL! ok. maybe a little...but it is mostly the fault of Hughes-muse...he must be angry still that i bought the figure of him in the phonebooth... or somesuch...-fireun_

* * *

There was something about the grin seated firmly on Hughes' face that made Al a wee bit nervous. Maybe it was the way shrewd eyes were glittering from behind rectangle lenses, or the way he lounged in a way that suggested he was waiting for something…

Though, it was most likely the watch he was idly twirling with his left hand. An alchemist's watch…

"Mr. Hughes?"

Hughes stood away from the wall, allowing a silver chain, identical to the one attached to the watch he had in his hand, drape from a shirt pocket. "How are you, Alphonse?"

"I am well, sir. I was wondering…" Al paused, unsure as to how to proceed in this particular situation. "I wasn't aware you were an alchemist, Mr. Hughes."

"Oh, this?" Hughes looked at the watch for a second, and then tossed it towards Al, who fumbled a catch, managing to snag the chain before it made it completely to the ground. The chain was very…familiar…some of the dents…the way the watch itself was scratched…

"Mr. Hughes…is this…?"

"Would you mind giving it back to your brother for me. He is most likely looking for it about…." There was a fantastic explosion somewhere in Central, which prompted a solemn nod from Hughes. "Just about now, actually."

"Why…!" Al was baffled. Hughes was their friend…

"Well, Ed was sulking and Roy was brooding. And nothing gets either of them going quite so well as making them unholy pissed at each other." Hughes looked inordinately proud of himself.

"So that…"

"Yup. This is Roy's."

"You….!"

"Exactly. Ed thinks Roy took his and Roy is most likely convinced Ed made off with his. Sit back and enjoy the fireworks, Alphonse." Hughes leaned back against the wall, a peaceful sort of expression on his face. "Don't worry, Al. they will be in excellent moods once the smoke clears. And by that time, I should have this," he swung Roy's watch, "safely back in Mustangs desk, and I suggest you have Ed's in his luggage somewhere."

"HUGHES!"

* * *

**_wolfenzippo_**_ -yay! glad you like. i realllly like writing havoc/fury. a certain spades 44 got me good and addicted to the pair._

_**Mortari** - well damn, i will have to try and write more disclaimers for you then. it is always good to hear from ya! glad the drabbles are still enjoyable! Ryan Cabrera, eh? never heard of him...care to describe/explain? drop me an email or somesuch!_

_**ShenYue** - welcome to the insanity and good to hear from you! i love the interaction between Hohenheim and Ed. it goes from adorable to bitingly angsty at the drop of a hat. i am updating the Hohenheim and Ed ficlet thingy entitled "Father of Mine" this evening as well. check it out!_

_**Jade Pen** - another person i have not heard from before! hurrah! welcome to the insanity! no black hayate's were harmed in the writing of these drabbles. i promise. i dont see them ending anytime soon. i love writing them too much! thank you so much for the review!_

_**Animegoil** - i will drop by and check out the dragon knights stuff sooooooon. getting through with a very very long work stint. dying, almost literally, for a day off at this point... a friend of mine collected the series in the original japanese and got me hooked years back. DK is some gooood stuff! i was so happy to see it translated. easier for me to read that way. on a drabble note, i am glad you liked the havoc/fury fluff! sometimes it just kinda...happens. love those two..._

_**Spades 44** - oh, ye muse of drabbles. tis wonderful to hear from you. as always, the fluff was for you. especially since you have managed to write maes/roy that does not make me want to throw rocks. they wooooork, which is so rare. and hell, havoc and fury need the attention and the love. as for my having inspiration...these arent inspired so much as drabble!bunnies attack with their nasty, pointy teeth and demand i write. oh, and i have cracked out conversations with a few other insane fma fans. it all works out in the end. one way or another..._

_ye gods...am i getting on to 50 of these things! logic suggests i should run out of things to DO to these poor people. thankfully reason has little to do with my drabbles. back, bunnies...baaaaack i say... -fireun_


	49. Drabble the FourtyNineth Riza

_RoyAi for Valentines Day. hurrah! going to try and get a few more themed ones out in the next 24 hours._

* * *

Riza let herself into the office, early as always, and settled her bag onto the floor beside her desk. There were few things in life as heavy as a weeks worth of paperwork, and she was definitely glad to be rid of it. She settled down into her worn chair and pulled a few files out of that much-abused bag, thinking to finish up the last little bit she had passed up in favor of sleep the evening before.

Reaching for a pencil her mind finally decided it had to acknowledge that which had been out of place, so much so in fact that she had dealt with it simply by paying it no attention. She had to reach past it though in order to get to her pencils. There was no avoiding it.

There was a vase on her desk. A vase containing roses. Rather beautiful ones at that, with petals that were a gentle blend of yellow accented by almost accidental looking splotches of vivid red. A small envelope sat beside the vase, innocent enough in appearance, her name scrawled in an almost delicately precise hand.

She knew that handwriting. She had seen it at the bottom of countless official documents, on little memos around the office. With a hesitation more appropriate for attempting to disarm a bomb, Riza took the envelope and opened it.

A smile just as out of place as the flowers themselves spread across her face, softening usually severe and somber lines. "Thank you." She spoke quietly, the words a gentle exhalation more than anything else.

Reclining in his office, Roy smirked. "See, I am not all _that_ hopeless." He muttered, jabbing a pencil at a photo of Maes. "So wipe that damn grin off your face."

* * *

_**Mortari **- i gave up trying to deny my addiction. it would be like havoc trying to tell the guys he is not at all addicted to cigs. i got your email, will drop you a line back after some time spent asleep. i kinda skipped the sleeping part last night so as to work on a fma amv. -proudly addicted as all hell to fma- thanks for all the support, reviews, and general awesomeness!_

_**Animegoil** - i am not near as far as i want to be in DK...i read them at work during breaks now that they are in english. so much easier than back when i was translating them from japanese. i am too damn slow at that...such good manga though..._

_**Psycho 24** - more riza and roy! hurrah! good to hear from ya again! after one misadventure i dont let people try and 'fix' my computer anymore..._

_**SpinningAvia **- what says valentines day more than some good ol RoyAi? nothin! so more Roy/Riza for you! hope you like! and havoc/fury is terribly addictive. and so irresistably adorable! glad you are enjoying the drabbles!_

_**DarkWarlordofDoomness** - the havoc/fury is addictive as hell, isnt it? spades-sama got me started, and it pulled me along from there. that couple needs the love. _

_**Honeywell** - thank you so much for the compliment! hmmm, some Hughes and Elysia cuteness? consider it done! just let me get the couple of valentines day ones i need to get posted up and running. i adore writing anything with Hughes, so this request has made my day! and i always take requests. sometimes i forget about them, but most of the time i get them written and posted. if i dont, it is always fine to poke at me and remind me. i am usually disorganized as hell and appreciate the reminder -sheepish-_

_**ShenYue** - Thank you! glad you like these-hug-_


	50. Drabble the Fiftieth Hohenheim

_well folks, we made it to fifty. here is some Hohenheim/Trisha fluff-fireun_

* * *

There were some people too special for roses, or chocolates, or any of the trite little tokens young insincere lovers exchanged once a year in a display of social expectation. While he didn't approve of the unnecessarily amount of spending that this all seemed to encourage, he did in fact approve of doing something nice for his woman.

Which is, of course, how Hohenheim found himself in pants now grass stained on the knees and a plain white long sleeved dress shirt in the middle of a field picking wild flowers. There was just something far classier about clambering around and making a different sort of idiot of yourself, something that screamed love. There was only one person who could inspire a rather aloof man to such adolescent behavior, and she was currently preparing dinner for her husband.

Snagging a spattering of tiny purple flowers and adding them to the colorful bunch held delicately in deceptively large hands he decided the bouquet was complete. Perfect. Straightening with a slight wince (his back was not supposed to hurt like that…) he made his way back to home and wife.

Trisha was hanging laundry, dinner obviously settled down and cooking for the delightful smell of things. Hohenheim crept up behind her, planted a kiss on the nape of her neck and hauled her into a hug as she laughed. He ran one hand across her swelling stomach with a smile then raised the hand holding flowers so that it was in front of her face.

"Ifound you some flowers."

"They are beautiful!" Trisha leaned her head to the side just enough to nuzzle his scruffy cheek.

"There isn't any chocolate." His deep voice rumbled through her, due to the fact he was pressed as tightly against her as he could manage without causing any discomfort.

"That's alright. It would spoil dinner anyway."


	51. Drabble the FiftyFirst Fury and Havoc

_last of the valentines requests...i think? if i missed yours, let me know! got called into work a few times already this week on my days off. my head is ready to asplode-fireun_

* * *

Of all the days to get cold feet…why did it have to be now? When it _mattered_. Why couldn't he have gotten squeamish or nervous months ago, when he leaned over that first time and planted a kiss on Fury's nose? The worst that had happened then was Fury blushing an almost unnaturally bright shade of red and becoming incoherent for about an hour. Now though, now it was his time to blush and stall, to feel sweat bead in a chilly reminder of his anxiety.

Whose damn idea had it been to create a holiday on which everyone suddenly became consciously aware of his or her own dating status? What a terrible idea! Most relationships couldn't handle that sort of stress with any sort of grace, hell; most people couldn't act with any sort of grace under this sort of situation.

Havoc raised his fifth cigarette of the hour to his mouth, chewing on it for a moment before thinking to light it. The difference between months ago and now is that he hadn't thought about his actions, hadn't thought about anything but the absolutely adorable look that had been on Fury's face…

"Jean?" Fury's voice, curious and light…Havoc bit through his cigarette as he jumped, startled and fretful. What if he didn't look alright…if the restaurant wasn't perfect…

"Hey, settle down. You are nervous as a dog about to be neu…ahem. Never mind. What has you so worked up?" Fury tilted his head to the side as he peered into the open bathroom.

Which reminded Havoc of a tiny bird. Suddenly as his anxiety demanded an outlet and he began to chuckle, which swiftly turned into a heaving guffaw. Tears streaming down his face, Jean Havoc braced himself against the sink, trying desperately to breathe.

Fury watched for a moment, and then made a decision. "Hey, Jean, why don't we just stay in tonight."

"Eh?" was all Havoc managed around the remaining chuckles and panting breath.

"I am a little tired. Why don't we just have some dinner here at home instead of going out?"

Havoc was a smart man, and he knew what was going on. His intelligence was also the reason that he didn't protest when Fury led him out of the bathroom and settled him on the couch, nestling against him with a content sigh. They would have dinner at home.

Later.

* * *

**ShenYue**- i am addicted to Hohenheim. it is awkward, and yet amazing. -love-. and i suppose i will run out of ideas at some point or another...but i dont see it happening anytime soon.

**SpinningAvia **- glad you like! for some reason i am full of the fluff lately...it must have scared off all the crack for the time being.

**Mortari **- i live to serve! must...update...more... hehe. i am addicted myself, so the drabbles shall keep on coming! i bought myself the fma metal box for valentines. -sweatdrop-

**Honeywell** - if i canruin any attempts at intelligible speech, i consider my work here done -grin- . glad you like! it makes me happy when my readers are reduced to cute 'awwww' noises.

**Jade Pen** - please remember to use sunscreen if you do feel the need to bask. seriously, thank you so much for the comment. i got so much more confident in writing these as they moved along, which is probably the prime factor that has let them get better. i am glad they got noticeably better.

**Roane the Alchemist** - never thought i would make it to fifty and then BOOM! i was there. it was kinda...weird.

**Humor Queen Merc** - you know all my RoyAi is directed for your enjoyment. -bows- the crack will most likely resume at this point. i am all fluffed out or somesuch. so much...gooey love-melts-

**Animegoil** - Roy is weird (and awesome) enough to sit there talking to a picture of Maes. i get the impression he used to pass a lot of ideas and such past his friend when they were working together...so it makes sense. at least in this crack infested bit of fleshy bits i call a brain... dear god...18 DK books? i am behind...


	52. Drabble the FiftySecond Roy and Riza

_another request, as someone really wanted to know what was in that note that was attached to Riza's valentines day flowers. here is my attempt to sate that curiosity. -fireun_

* * *

Dearest Lieutenant,

I wanted to be the first on this special day to wish you the very best, and thought the best possible way to do so would be with flowers. Actually, I am sure there are a plethora of better ways in which to express affection, but it occurs to me that in all the time I have known you I have yet to see you get flowers. And this is not a jab at some sort of reference to the 'fairer' sex; it is just a genuine desire that you, at least once, receive something as honest and simple as a bouquet of flowers, and if you would be so kind as to accept them from such a humble giver, all the better. It was pointed out by a very wise man, at every opportunity he got, that I am less than a tactical genius when it comes to dealing with women, so I hope this has not missed its intention.

Devotedly Yours,  
Colonel Roy Mustang.

* * *

_and that does it for valentines fluff. tune in next time for your regularly scheduled crack. as well as all the review replies. it is late and i have work in the morning. -glomps all the nice loyal reader people-_


	53. Drabble the FiftyThird

_ok. i know someone requested some Maes and Elysia fluff with this scenario...i cant remember who though and am late for work so cant check back through the reviews...sorry!sorry! i hope this is what you were looking for, oh ye mysterious requester of drabbles. if you could let me know that would be awesome. -proceeds to hang head in shame-_

* * *

The sound of crying had him out of bed and to the door, knife in hand, before his brain actually processed the sound or the action. Back in the bed, Gracia rolled over, blinking blearily.

"Hmmm?"

"Be right back." He settled the knife back into its bedside resting place, kissed his wife on the forehead, pulled on a pair of pants, and made his way to the houses only other occupied bedroom and the source of the pitiful crying.

Inside, in the dim light of early morning, he made out the form of his daughter, curled up into a defensive ball, tiny fingers clenching her blankets.

"Hey cutie." He called out, shutting the door behind him as he entered. "Why dontcha wake up a bit. Daddy's here." He settled on the edge of the bed and mussed her hair, watching her twitch awake as her cried ended in an awkward sort of hiccough.

"Da?"

"Yep. What's all this crying for? Did I miss one of the monsters that were hiding under the bed?" He leaned over, trying to look under the bed, and in a theatrical bit that would make any clown jealous, managed to fall off and land is an amusing heap on the floor. This elicited the desired giggle, and he looked up at her, apparently crestfallen. "Daddy forgot his glasses again."

Elysia laughed, nightmares apparently forgotten. She held her stubby arms out, obviously trying to help her father off the floor. Maes was a step ahead, hauling himself onto the bed with a sigh. "Well, since I cant see if there are any I should stay and keep watch." He intoned solemnly, settling back against the headboard.

This was obviously a phrase Elysia knew well, for she snuggled up against him, plopping her head on his left thigh and in moments had drifted back to sleep.

Maes smiled down at his daughter for a while before deciding that Gracia wouldn't mind _too_ much if he spent the next hour or so before he went to work here with his daughter and closed his own eyes.

* * *

_late for work, will express my love of my reviewers when i get back tonight. the drabble!bunnies have been hitting hard, so i am SURE i will have another one this evening. until then...baibai-fireun_


	54. Drabble the FiftyFourth Al

_Disclaimer - post series, so i suppose it could count as a spoiler of sorts. also, i adooooooooooooore al/winry. -insert fangirlish cooing here...not that i actually make that sound, mind you...-_

* * *

There were times when Al almost honestly wished he was back as a suit of armor. At least suits of armor didn't blush. Honestly, why did Winry have to do things like hold his hand?

Ok, not that he actually minded. Her hands were reassuringly calloused, not at all soft and delicate, which most likely would have made him even more self conscious and unsure. There was something calming about tangible evidence that a girl could take care of herself. Took a lot of the stress off of the male.

It also helped that this was _Winry_. He had grown up with her. He _knew_ her, had gotten in fights with his brother over who would _marry_ her. The fact that _she_ knewthat made the blush creep back for a moment or two before being fought back by his common sense. She knew that and still she wanted to sit with him in a comfortable silence and watch the pleasantly clear night sky. That was a definite positive reaction.

She didn't mind his silences, the little awkward movements that had become habit, his tentative way of interacting with others. She didn't mind _him_.

And when her hand moved for a moment, he wanted to sigh, figuring his evening was over. Damn was he wrong. The blush was stunned into submission when she settled her head on his chest with a quiet huff of contentment.

They lay there for hours in the night cool grass behind her house, staring at the sky, neither of them saying anything. Neither of them needed to.

* * *

_oh man, i been slacking off on responses. this will be long. sorry in advance!_

_**Humor Queen Merc** - i am currently playing with the latest bit of crack you have suggested. bwahaha..! there shall be a drabble in the near future for you again!_

_**Psycho 24** - hurrah for lovers of RoyAi! mostly it is a chance for me to write a more awkward, sincere Roy. and i looooove it._

_**ShenYue** - there really is something cute about Havoc/Fury. i was instantly addicted (upon reading Spades 44's drabbles. check them out if you havent!)_

_**Honeywell **- you! you were the one who requested the Maes and Elysia fluff, werent you? anyway, the comment you left about the drabbles living on had me laughing for like 10 minutes. thank you!_

_**Arahazi** - here is some Al/Winry for you! i am glad you are enjoying the Havoc/Fury. such an adorable couple... though, considering how much i liked writing this Al/Winry one...looks like i have a second set of awkward fluff to work with._

_**SpinningAvia** -sorry to hear you are sick! get better! i demand it! and welcome to the wonderful world of Havoc/Fury addicts. we need little badges..._

_**Lady-Lynne** - thank you so much!_

_**Spades 44** - there is something obscenely adorable about someone being kissed on the nose. and it is SO something i can see happening with the two of them. they really are my favorite pair. -stomps on urge to make ambarrassingly cute noises- wish i could draw so as to get some more fanart floating around. ah well. glad you liked that one. i think it was my favorite Havoc/Fury to write as well. if they had gone out i am sure havoc would have been nervous enough to choke on his food. alas, that is the crack for another drabble...  
the lj is fireun. i think i left that in a review for you...cant remember...too tired..._

_**Animegoil **- i think he was being blunt because i see him as losing alot of that suave elegance when dealing with hawkeye. i like to think he likes her enough to lose a bit of that preternatural suave coolness. takes him down a peg or three. makes him more human. which is what i see hawkeye liking in him. then again, that could just be me. -sweatdrop-_

_**Roane the Alchemist** - drabbles are supposed to be wee little short pieces of fic, i was told once they are 100 word pieces. as you can see...i dont really stick to that...i did try for awhile...then gave up._

_**Alaunt Mistress** - hullo! glad you enjoy the drabbles! i try to update every day. really i do. sometimes it works out...anyway, welcome, keep in touch, and enjoy the insanity!_

_**Mortari** - i was wondering where you got your name from! awesome! heh, if i made you go 'awww' i consider my work here done! hurrah!_

_love you all! thanks for all the fantastic reviews-fireun_


	55. Drabble the FiftyFifth Havoc

_i am SO going to be set on fire for this one...it was requested that i have a drabble that was less fluff, more explosions. -fireun_

* * *

Well, it was bound to have happened at some point. Though, it really was a pity that Hughes had to have been in the car…that was not at all expected. The man usually walked.

At least the damage had been minimal; Hughes and Mustang would be out of the infirmary this evening, with just some bandages and painkillers to show for their misadventures. It was a blessing Hawkeye had stayed behind to delegate some last minute work to Farman and Breda. Hawkeye was not someone he wanted sore and cranky.

It was kinda funny actually how mundane the whole situation. One cigarette tossed casually by a random civilian on the street had started the whole thing, set off one spectacular conflagration that could be seen clear across the city.

It really was a shame about Hughes though.

Havoc took one last drag on his own cigarette, snuffed it out on the side of the building he was leaning against and stretched. Time to head home, enjoy the day off while he could, before Hawkeye stopped fussing over the colonel long enough for her to notice his absence.

He really should have told Mustang about the gas leak in that car…

* * *

_**Honeywell** - pantless hughes. not something you read about every day! i actually wonder how bad hughes' vision is myself...either way, i can see him playing it up, just cause he is a sneaky intelligence agent like that._

_**Psycho 24** - i really should insert some sort of health warning for the drabbles. they seem to be as addictive as most hardcore drugs... thanks for sticking with them! i will see what i can do with your request!_

_**Kaori** - the whole hohenheim and ed relation is something i dont think i will ever get tired of writing about. it is so interesting and involved! join me in the hoho papa addiction! joooooin meeeeeee! _

_**Mortari **- better brainwashing through drabbles? heh, it makes me happy that i can manage to get people to like pairings with the drabbles. must mean i am doing something right, ne?_

_**lady aku** - yeah, in my twisted little mind Al wins Winry. they are just too cute..._

_**Animegoil** - whew, i am glad my Roy/Riza view makes sense to someone else as well. didnt know if i was explaining it well... and i like ed and winry more as companions and deep friends rather than loves. the connection between them just seems more important that romance...again, i get weird when it comes to relationship analysis... the "ai" in RoyAi is the same as shonen ai. far as i can tell it is the Roy/Riza fans' response to all the shonen ai. "damn shonen ai...OH! i know! we can use RoyAi!" or somesuch. -facedesk- i get a little insane when i am tired._

_**ShenYue** - Spades' drabbles are amazing, arent they-fangirls over spades- ahem. sorry about that. i am glad you like my insanity. keeps me happy._

_**SpinningAvia** - hurrah for restored health! isnt the fma manga AMAZING!_


	56. Drabble the FiftySixth Fury and Havoc

_cause i love Spades-sama. -fireun_

* * *

It definitely wasn't something that was premeditated, it happened too quickly, too smoothly, and without the flustered anxiety that planning such things out created. It was just…Cain was overwhelmed at seeing Jean again. It had been too long.

All it had taken was a quirky smile from the lanky blonde, a pleasantly familiar "yo", and Cain had done the only thing that seemed appropriate at the time.

Jean exhaled an "umph!" of air as Cain hurled himself into his arms. "Did you miss me, little one?" he chuckled, at the exact time Cain exclaimed, "I missed you!"

Jean grinned down at Cain, reveling in how good it felt to have the little guy back, how good it felt to have him tangibly safe in his arms. Cain looked up at him, blinked once, and then stretched up just enough to plant a kiss firmly on his lips. It took Jean a moment to realize what had just happened, before he decided to ignore the fact that they were in a pretty public place and kiss his lover back.

Anyway, he was pretty sure Hawkeye would take care of anyone stupid enough to give them trouble.

* * *

_**Honeywell** - i shall now go to bed happy and dream of cookies the size of my head...-drool-_

_**Mortari** - the last person who suggested i see professional help for being obsessive about fma is not the alphonse in our rp unit. anime always wins in the end. -nodsnods-_

_**SpinningAvia** - well, the manga is licensed...so i dont expect it to linger online for much longer...-sad-_

_**ShenYue** - if they are making you happy, i am doing something right! hurrah!_

_**Psycho 24** - still have your request! working on it! just had a pile of the things to work through as well! i love it people are requesting so many! keeps me from running out of ideas!_

_**Animegoil** - yeah...lots of drabbles...-sheepish- they are just so easy to write...i really enjoyed looking through yours! will toss some more reviews your way soon! i promise!_

_**Lochoko** - hurray for roy/ed! hurray i say! glad to hear from you again!_

_**Roane the Alchemist** - heh, i got another one writing drabbles. fireun wins-silly pose- arent they fun!_

_have i mentioned lately that you, my reviewers and pals, kick ass-fireun_


	57. Drabble the FiftySeventh Havoc and Fury

_alright. remember all the crack that involved havoc, fury, and a collar? well, it evolved in a drabble a friend wrote in response into something not quite as adorable and considerably more...well...use your imagination. today i promised her i would write anything she wanted if she would buy me some icecream. teach me to use drabbles as a batering tool. this drabble is what she demanded. shonen ai. cease reading if you dont like the idea of havoc and fury as rather happy lovers. danke. -fireun_

* * *

There were a few things Jean Havoc did not expect to see as soon as he got home that evening. Not that he minded, but, well, it just wasn't what he was used to. There were things higher on his list of improbable happenings- Maes running off to join the circus, Riza in a dress…Fury in leather was really not even a part of his cognitive process.

But there it was. Cain Fury. In rather sparse, but tight, leather, with assorted interestingly placed metal bits. And a collar. That collar, which had started out mostly as a joke, evolved into an interesting way to be protective and possessive all at once, and apparently found a comfortable end as something not altogether different.

Cain looked up at him, with those wide eyes which Jean at this point refused to label as any sort of innocent, and grinned. "Happy birthday."

"Well shit." Jean gnawed the end of his cig in a pleased sort of contemplation, before the actual thinking part of his brain intruded upon sensory appreciation, and reminded him that Cain hated it when he smoked. He spat his cig into the sink with one practiced turn of the head, hung his coat, and wandered into the living room where his lover waited.

A happy birthday _indeed_.

* * *

_well now. that being said...i am off to get a running start. i am sure to get set on fire for this one. or at least set upon by disgruntled fans..._


	58. Drabble the FiftyEighth Ed

_as always, hoho-papa is love. -fireun_

* * *

Ed scratched his head in a bemused sort of confusion and surveyed the situation before him, all of his sharp commentary and scathing remarks abandoning him in the face of the incomprehensible.

The old bastard was sick.

Ed glared down at Hohenheim, but without the man matching his gaze or even aloofly ignoring him, even that failed to restore any sense of normalcy. Hohenheim lay in his bed, terrifyingly still but for his shallow breathing, looking paler than he had any business being. The _presence_ of the man was so diminished…

Ed found himself experiencing an emotion he had never thought to link to this particular person; he was scared the bastard was going to die. His pallor, breathing, his entire demeanor was so like that of Trisha before she had passed away that a small corner of Ed's mind was howling with the dismay of a son terrified of losing his last remaining parent.

"Not fair, old man. You can't sneak out of our last argument this easily." Ed hissed, embarrassed when his voice cracked. "I was winning and you knew it." He hauled a chair to the bedside and slumped there, his legs no longer willing to support his anxious pacing.

A few moments later and he inched the chair forward, so he could slump and lean his weight onto the bed. So as to observe Hohenheim for changes, monitor him more closely…

A little later he rested his head on Hohenheim's chest. Had to make sure the heartbeat was mostly steady. Surely if he was this close he would know if there was a drastic negative change in that weak rhythm.

And when Hohenheim's fever managed to break some hours later, and he shifted one weak, unsteady arm to stretch across his sons back in a sort of feeble embrace, Ed chose not to fuss.

Just this once.

* * *

_hey all, i will respond to comments in my next drabble, aight? having a tough time over on my end, but i wanted to get a drabble up lest you all think i was dead. -fireun_


	59. Drabble the FiftyNineth Havoc and Roy

_look ma! i wrote havoc/roy! mostly cause Spades asked so nicely. -fireun_

* * *

Roy Mustang was insufferable, arrogant, elitist, smug, and just a general pain in the ass. And not only that, he was a womanizer. Which made things rather...interesting. Interesting in the respect that after all the rampant womanizing he wandered back to Jean's place, smelling like a brothel's water closet – an unmistakable blend of perfume, makeup and that damn potpourri.

And he complained about some nice, natural, cigarette smoke. Some people just had to win all the time.

Jean had it down to a bit of an art form. Roy left the office at the exact same time every evening. If he had a date, he would run a hand through his hair and glance sideways into the window in order to verify he was looking his best. That was when Jean would know he had approximately three hours.

Roy could only stand simpering for so long.

Three hours was plenty of time to make sure that when Roy let himself in with a sigh, Jean would hand him a mug of strong brewed coffee, and wait until he settled on the couch with a sort of satisfied huff of breath, the kind that relaxes every muscle in the body above the waist.

That was Jean's cue to settle on the couch as well. Roy would raise one arm in an almost absentminded invitation at this point, draping it over Jean's shoulders when he settled closer, resting his head on Roy's shoulder.

They were quiet evenings, Jean enjoying the fact that he could hear Roy's tension wander off, replaced by a placidly steady heartbeat. And when Roy started reading his usual musty alchemical treatises, it was only a matter of time before Jean's patience wore out and he would start tickling in order to regain the man's attention.

Well, that and it was just damn funny to hear Roy giggle like that.

Ok. It was also partially an excellent excuse to get Roy's hands all over him when the man recovered enough to fight back.

Tickling really was the best and most successful form of flirting.

* * *

_this is going to be a general response to all the amazing reviews i have gotten to the past few. while i apologize for the mass love, regularly scheduled personal responses will continue next week. when i get back in town. you people are keeping me sane and i love you-fireun_


	60. Drabble the Sixtieth Roy

**SPOILERS** for the end of the series. SPOILERS I SAY-fireun

* * *

Roy watched Riza and Al play with Black Hayate and cracked the barest hint of a smile. It was excellent to have Alphonse around. The young man was a bundle of enthusiasm and good will. Riza, suffering under what was most likely an influx of suppressed hormones resulting in massive maternal tendencies, had taken to the youth immediately. She had always had a soft spot for Al-as-armor, it only made sense she would establish such a close relation with Al-as-flesh. It was good to see Al smile, and not have to imagine it. It was good to see that warm expression on Riza's face, to see the softening of those sharp eyes.

But there was a dark, hurt corner of his mind that resented the cost.

Equal exchange. Bullshit. There were some things that had no limited value, no designation of obvious worth. That cocky smile and the bedlam that inevitably followed in the wake of Edward Elric was a prime example.

It was good to have Al around, to hear him yawn when tired and yelp when he stubbed his toe, to hear his delight at the flavor of apple pastries, but none of that helped when Roy wandered back to his apartment at night. He would step over the pair of boots Ed had left there months ago, past the books that had been discarded onto whatever surface was closest to Ed when he had gotten bored of reading. He would drink left over coffee and crawl into bed, and wonder why there was so much empty space.

* * *


	61. Drabble the SixtyFirst Black Hayate

_my memory! she is horrible! i, again, cannot for the life remember who requested this particular installment of crack...ahem...well, if whomever requested reads and likes, please let me know-fireun_

* * *

"Stubborn, arrogant pain in the ass…._man_."

Black Hayate's ear twitched as some trigger in the depths of his sleeping canine mind warned him now was not the time to be indolently sprawled in the middle of the bedroom floor. Now was the time to be somewhere safe, like out side and out of sight, if the frustrated snarl in his mistresses' voice was any indication. Now was an excellent time for being Anywhere But Here. He scrambled to his feet in a valiant effort to carry out that plan, but he did not mobilize quite fast enough.

"Hayate! Come."

He was not one to ignore a direct order, especially when spoken in That Tone. Tail tucked between quavering legs he trotted to her side, whimpering in what he hoped was a polite sort of acknowledgement of her superiority.

She was standing in the middle of the living room, stance fairly aggressive with legs slightly parted and hands on hips. At least her weapon was still secure at her side. This was a good sign. He settled at her feet, starting up a tentative tail wag, waiting. Her hand dropped to his head and gave a good scritch behind his left ear, reassuring him that her ire was not at all directed his way.

He was just about to relax back into a quiet appreciation of ear rubs when she spoke again. "Hayate. Mission for you. I need you to go and mess on Mustang's favorite boots."

Some words make sense, even to a canine. Mustang was a name he was familiar with, and the words mess and boots, while never spoken together in such a polite conversational way, were words he most definitely knew. Put that all together, and the implication of what his mistress was saying was terrifying.

He was supposed to mess on someone's boots, usually an action punishable by more shots in his general direction than he wanted to contemplate. And not just anyone's, but Mustang, the alpha male. He turned piteous puppy eyes upwards, pleading, but there was no hope for reprieve in her angry face.

Black Hayate had a decision to make, and he was damned either way.

Well, least if he did what his mistress ordered there would be good food and a head scritch or three. If he survived.

* * *

_still out of town...i am a horrible kitty...gonna kinda do a highlights version of my ususal drabble review responses...for people who had questions or such._

_general response to the angst!reviews, sorry bout that! head has been in that frame of mind. it isnt as bad as it sounds though...if you have seen the end of the series, you inderstand, right? right? i am not a terrible angst ridden person...not completely at least..._

_**Chaos of Hearts** - i read and reviewed! nice work!_

_**Dragon Fire 13** - you like the fluff! hurrah! even more than that...you like havoc/fury-love-_

_**Animegoil** - oh, the tickle wars i have seen...-chuckles- it just seemed like something i can see a playful jean doing with roy to mess with him. and yeah, i really do love hohenheim. soooooooooo much. and the end of the series isnt all that bad. trust me. _

_**Honeywell, Mortari, rest of the amazing regulars -** sorry for not responding personally...really i am. the reviews make my day. every time. it is kinda getting to be more like getting a message from pals than just a review from people on my writing.DANKE-hearts all over the place, hughes style-_


	62. Drabble the SixtySecond Roy

_some more fluff. with roy. and i am nice to roy in this one. really. i promise. the bunnies are on vacation as i recover from last week, so i apologize in advance for what will most likely be an uneventful few days. -fireun_

* * *

There was a thing about Roy Mustang that only one other person knew- and he liked it that way.

He made it to the Hughes' place by five, was greeted at the door by an embrace from Maes and a kiss on the cheek from Gracia before the two of them hurried off to where ever it was parents went when they managed to con someone into taking care of their offspring. Which left him to let himself into the house to look for his charge.

The imp in question was seated happily in her father's favorite chair, grinning ear to ear. "Uncle Roy!" She squealed in delight, imperiously holding out her arms in a demand to be held.

While he wasn't infected as badly as Maes, Roy did enjoy children, so it was with a genuine smile that he complied with Elysia's demands, sweeping her up and dropping a kiss onto the top of her head.

"What shall we do today, imp? I am sure Maes wants me to bathe you and make sure you eat all of the green things with dinner…" Elysia pouted prettily in response to Roy's thoughtful words. "Well, if he wanted that done he shouldn't have left you with me."

It really came down to the little things in life.

Elysia threw her stubby arms around his neck, planting a very wet kiss somewhere around his jaw line. "Stories!" She demanded.

Stories. She would always ask for stories. And he would set her down on her bed, making sure all the stuff teddies were some place where they could listen in as well before beginning. It wasn't really stories she was after, not completely. He would tell one or two, stories about her father, Riza's puppy, the kitten Al had taken in, before being interrupted as she tugged, almost shyly, on his sleeve. He would look down, meet her pleading gaze, and nod.

There was something only Elysia knew about Roy Mustang, something not even Maes was completely aware of. And on those quiet evenings Elysia would crawl into his lap, favorite teddy in arms, and he would, quietly, begin to sing.

Roy Mustang had a beautiful singing voice, and he loved to sing.

* * *

_finally back to proper review responses! hurrah! hullo to all the new faces and welcome to the insanity-fireun_

_**Chaos Of Hearts** - shot or set on fire. the poor dogs prospects at that point are not so good..._

_**kim** - you went through them all in one sitting? and your head didnt a splode? you deserve a badge of some sort! this wasnt hughes and daughter...but i will work on it. this one just kinda...happened. _

_**Psycho 24** - i am a horrible person. please remind me of your request..._

_**Animegoil** - all i can hear is Roy's canine speech from the dub in my head when i go back and look at that drabble. i think if hayate messed on his shoe the speech might change a wee bit..._

_**Honeywell** - of course you are an amazing regular! you keep on giving me the review-lovin and your head has not a sploded due to crack!drabbles yet! hurrah! ooohh...i do love fresh baked goods...HAH. lets start the campaign now, "Hayate for Fuhrer!" though i dont know if he can beat Roy's miniskirt campaign...thats a hard one to fight against. more hughes soon! i promise! elysia wanted to hang out with roy apparently for this one._

_**Dark Angel31** - another person who needs a badge for making it through these things. i swear, drabbles are addictive like crack! alright! another vote for more RoyAi. -gets crackin-_

_**Loki an Co.** - oh bother...someone is spazzing...have a cookie-offers cookie-_

_**DarkWarLordOfDoomness** - Hayate's POV is hilarious good fun to write. i will see about getting him some time with Elysia._


	63. Drabble the SixtyThird Havoc and Fury

_see, i have this thing...when i read a lot of Spades' drabbles, no matter the pairing, i feel this pull to write havoc/fury. so, here it is. -fireun_

* * *

Cain Fury had a problem.

His problem involved concerned amusement, which always seemed to make him blush. Had to be something in the pleasant, teasing voice. His problem was effortlessly suave, not in the same way as others might be considered suave, but damn, suave none the less. His problem had eyes to die for and adorable spiky hair. His problem smoked enough to make a forest fire envious.

In short, his problem was Jean Havoc.

It wasn't a problem, per se. It was more of a quiet addiction, an addiction to a quirky smile and otherwise intense expressive face. It was an addiction to every little nuance of Jean's character, even the depressive funks the other man sank into every now and then.

Then again those funks presented the perfect opportunity to go and make it all better.

If he was less of the meek little officer, that is.

Cain set his head against the desk with a solid thunk, huffing out a disgusted breath. He really deserved the teasing. He was such a wuss.

"Yo, Cain." Oh ye gods…it had to be Havoc, didn't it? Fury could feel the preemptive blush started, and tried to find a way to push his face further into the nice, smooth wood of his desk. "Hey, Cain…" Great, now there was a concerned hand on his shoulder. Maybe he could absorb some nicotine and gain a backbone that way. Or at least enough energy to be flippant. It seemed to work for Havoc most of the time…

"Sorry." He managed to pull his face from its attempt at camouflage and regard his comrade.

"For what? You look like hell man." Havoc was chewing on the corner of a cig with a certain determination, which would have been amusing had it not chosen that moment to lose its last hold on structural integrity and plop down onto Cain's nose. "Shit. I'm sorry!"

Cain reached up, Jean reached down, and both hands ended up on top of a soggy half of a cigarette on top of Cain's nose. They regarded each other for a moment, and then Cain broke into a snorting sort of chuckle. Awkwardness dispelled by Jean's obvious embarrassment, Cain allowed himself to clench his hand around the other man's for a moment, moving both appendages from his nose so he could reach up and with his free hand and brush away the sad remains of the cigarette.

"Not a problem." Cain grinned.

And this time it was Jean who blushed, albeit only a little.

* * *

_Late for class, then work, will respond to all the amazing comments later on next drabble!_


	64. Drabble the SixtyFourth RoyAi

_RoyAi for all those who had been waiting so patiently through the slashy ones. -fireun_

* * *

If anyone had told him a handful of years ago that he would be in formal wear, dancing with Riza (who was wearing a rather stunning full length dress of some fantastically stretchy material) he would have suggested they apply for some leave, as they were obviously not in their right mind.

But here he was, his dress jacket folded elegantly over a chair a few feet away, his left arm securely around Riza's slender waist, her cheek resting against his chest. It was so unfamiliar, and so comfortable at the same time…A Riza Hawkeye who was willing to lean on someone else. It was distinctly alien, but altogether enjoyable.

And the _dancing_. Riza was a study in quiet grace, just as calmly competent on the dance floor as she was on the battlefield or shooting range. She raised her head from his chest for a moment, shifting to plant a kiss or three along his jaw-line before settling back, swaying gently as she danced.

Roy decided, at that moment, that he was the luckiest man alive. And that maybe Hughes had been right…about the whole woman thing…


	65. Drabble the SixtyFifth Al

_my friend and i were walking out in the snow andcold...and a conversation started with "wouldnt it be funny if..." and those never end well. at least not for the characters... - fireun_

* * *

It was a stunningly perfect winter's day. The air was crisp, sky was sunny, and there was a dusting of that light, sparkling snow covering everything, making even the older snow pristine and beautiful.

Elric family luck was sure to intervene at any moment.

Al knew it.

It was not that he was a pessimist, but considering everything that had lead up to Al standing in a metal body on a cold day, playing in the snow with a toddler, something really was bound to happen. Sooner or later. He would have sighed, were that possible, but there was the problem of that metal body again. See? Bad luck.

He watched Nina dance about in the snow, chasing snowflakes with her tongue extended as far as she could manage, and couldn't help but laugh. Chasing snowflakes really was one of the most fun things to do in the winter, second only to snowball fights.

There appears to be one flake in particular that had the girls attention, for she had a determined crease across her forehead, eyes crossed to get a better view of her target which was, apparently just in front of her.

The wind shifted a bit, and she wobbled to the side, intent on the elusive bit of winter precipitation. A moment too late Al noticed the direction of her erratic path, and tried to move to the side.

Suits of armor are not generally known for being incredibly agile, or presenting small targets, which is most likely how Nina ended up with her tongue pressed firmly to Al's side. One would assume that she managed to catch her quarry, for a smile broke across her face, a smile that lasted as long as it took for her to realize her tongue was, most definitely firmly stuck to the frigid metal that made up Al's current body.

Elric luck.

"Brother? Can you come outside for a moment? We need some help…"

* * *

_**Umino Ayame** - thank you for the review. yogurt sounds good about now...all i have had time for is fast food on the way to or home from work...will work on a roy/fury for ya!_

_**Dark Angel31** - i am sorry you were having a sucky day! i am glad i could write something to help! -offers a cookie-_

_**skyla3 **- i am sure she has a gun in there somewhere. ya know. just in case. _

_**Dragons Maiden** - hullo! want a cookie? -offers cookie- welcome to the insanity. more ed/roy, hmm? i am on it!_

_**Genkai-chan** - roy singing is love. well, unless you are listening to his actual character song file songs...those are strange...good, but strange._

_**Lochoko** - you are back! -glomp- glad you are still reading and liking!_

_looks i am going to be writing some ed/roy and roy/fury this week. as well as a friendly competition between al and ed for winry. this could be fun. sorry about the abridged version of the drabble review responses. work has become teh death. -fireun_


	66. Drabble the SixtySixth Roy

_holy lack of updates batman! sorry about that people! i have had no time for sleeping, much less writing. the good news is i got promoted at work. the bad news is i have even less time for my beloved drabbles. -weeps and wails-. ah well. i am sure someone will lynch me for this one anyway... i am still working on requests. i promise. -fireun_

* * *

Roy hated the wet, he hated the cold, and he hated overly long days in the office. When all three managed, through some foul twist of fate, to combine, what resulted was quite a cranky Mustang.

Which did not leave him in any sort of mood to want to deal with the antics of one Edward Elric.

Anyway, it was embarrassing to have to skulk into ones own apartment in an attempt to enter unnoticed. Hopefully the younger alchemist would be involved enough in whatever book he had snatched off of Roy's bookcase to miss the fact the apartments actual owner had returned.

"Roy? That you?"

No such luck.

Ed poked a slightly tousled head out from the combination living room and library, a pencil clutched between his teeth in such a way as to suggest he had spent a bit too much time around Havoc.

"Stop chewing on my things. If I wanted a damn dog I would have taken in Hayate." Roy snapped off his hat, gave one disgusted shake of his sodden coat before abandoning it on the hook by the door, and squelched his way across the hall to the kitchen in search of coffee.

"It's my pencil, you ass." Ed retorted.

"If it wasn't I am sure Havoc would have something crass to say about chewing on someone else's pencil."

"Just full of damn one-liners aren't you?" Ed snarled, his ire sending the pencil flying.

Roy ignored him, intent on attempting to pour old coffee into a cup without spilling any of the precious liquid.

"Stop ignoring me!" Ed howled, flailing in some sort of attempt to make himself more visible.

Said flailing moved Ed's arms directly into Roy's, ruining his careful pouring. "DAMN IT EDWARD!" Roy shouted, spilling coffee. "You undersized pain in the ASS!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE HAS TO STAND ON A STOOL TO GIVE H…"

Roy smacked him, cutting off the rant before Ed could embarrass them both. "I didn't _say_ that." As Ed scowled up at him, Roy sighed. "I am going to take a shower. I am wet, and cold, and irritable. Make some coffee."

"Smug bastard."

"Insolent brat."

* * *

_aight...responses to comments when i am less dead on my feet. love you all! -fireun_


	67. Drabble the SixtySeventh Havoc

_okok...almost caught up on requests...almost... -fireun _

* * *

Jean Havoc was concerned. It was apparent in the way he was sitting silently, writing furiously, and the fact that he was, for once, without a cigarette.

Every man had to have a goal in life, some grand prize that made all the work and struggle worthwhile, a reason to haul out of bed, to risk life and limb and deal with the somewhat infuriating antics of his compatriots. A cause for which he would willingly take bullets was in PERIL.

With a sharp hissing exhalation of breath to suggest his irritation Havoc crumbled up Attempt Fifty-Seven and added it to the pile of wadded paper on the floor around the trash.

"Smug bastard, are you coming to get some lunch or what!"

Edward Elric- the unexpected agent that was putting the entire operation in jeopardy. Edward Elric. Havoc ground his teeth and set to work on another piece of paper. There _had_ to be a way…

"One moment, Fullmetal."

That suavely languid tone…it was wasted! Wasted on such an impertinent….MALE! Mustang should be out using that magical intonation to sway and woo, to pick up women, dammit! WOMEN!

Havoc gnawed down on his ciga…damn, he needed smoke. He needed the nicotine. It would help him focus. He needed to find a way to get Mustang free from that pint-sized menace. He needed to get the man focused back on what really mattered- on miniskirts.

Project miniskirt would fall by the wayside unless Jean Havoc could pull Mustang's attention away from a certain blond male. Unless Edward suffered a massive change in wardrobe preferences, he had to be gotten rid of.

Havoc's reason for living was in grave peril. He had to act, and he had to act fast.

Attempt Fifty-Eight proved no better than its predecessors and suffered their same discarded fate. This wasn't working out. Planning and plotting was more Hughes' department.

Ah well. If all else fails, work with what you know.

Havoc reached under his desk, and pulled out his rifle with a manic sort of grin. Time to get to work.

* * *

_wow. i didnt know you guys would miss me so much! it is good to be back and hearing from all you awesome people again! -GLOMP!- i am trying to have more time to get things written and posted. really i am. and responding to comments...need to get some time to respond to comments... -fireun_  



	68. Drabble the SixtyEighth Roy and Maes

_happy drunken irish day! i am drinking irish whiskey and writting drabbles. it all makes sense. really it does... -fireun_

* * *

"Whoohoo!" A brilliantly inebriated cheer escaped following a dramatic, if slightly unsteady, victory dance.

"Maes, I'm under the 'pression that you are drunk."

"We, old man we." Maes tossed an arm in the general direction of Roy's shoulders, missing only by a fraction and managing to catch himself on the back of the booth to keep from falling. "We are drunk."

"Riza ish going to yell."

"Only if she finds us."

Roy thought that over for a moment, letting the thought wander its way through neurons that were fairly swimming in rather cheap brandy, before giving a small nod in agreement. At which point he decided that was a terrible idea, as the room appeared to continue moving after he had assumed his head had in fact stopped. "Whoosh…." He hissed, holding an arm out in an attempt to convince the world to slow down a bit, at least until he caught up.

"Anyway, we are cel'bratin'. She can't yell. You got promoted!" Maes decided this was ample reason to kick back another glass of brandy, and did so with a flourish. As he emitted a rather toxic belch of air, a thoughtful look passed across Maes' face, which even in the best of situations was not a good sign. "Hey, Roy…booze burns, right?"

"Yis." Roy had managed to slow the room down, and lowered his hand, now trying to figure out what Maes was getting at.

"My breath ish full of booze, right?"

"Yis." Neurons were dangerously close to making a connection, one that most likely would not bode well for the bar they were currently encamped in.

Maes' eyes glittered, a frighteningly sly gleam through the glaze of alcohol. "Hey, Roy I think…"

"That's quite enough, Hughes." The words were snapped in a voice carefully devoid of emotion.

"Ah, our 'sitter found us." Maes pouted and plopped back down into a slouch.

Riza Hawkeye cast a clinical glance over her two superior officers, and for a moment wondered if it wouldn't be more appropriate to just walk back out and let them sort out whatever trouble they managed to get into themselves. Not that it would teach them anything. Maes had a talent for talking his way out of everything and Roy would just manage to delegate responsibility to someone else and come out looking like a saint. Well, at least she had entered in time to keep the place from going up in a drunken conflagration.

"Sirs, it's time to call it a night."

Maes huffed a sigh before stretching and hauling himself upright. In the familiar way of two people quite used to getting soused together he helped maneuver Roy from his seat and the two of them made their careful way to the door and out into the chill night air.

Leaving Hawkeye to take care of the tab. She cast a glance at the barkeep, who nodded, gesturing for her to leave. The boys would be back tomorrow to settle up, as usual.

* * *

_aight! i can officially say i am back! dont know if i can, again, maintain this insane writing pace, but damn it, i am going to try like hell to do it! bwahahah! -fireun_

_**Psycho 24** - your request should be next. the elrics just werent behaving..._

_**Nemu **- i see roy and ed as having a very...interesting relationship. seriously...they would drive eachother nuts just as much as they would be fluffy and cute. and it is so fun to write both ends. as for the other one, i just had this image of havoc realizing that ed/roy meant no chicks in miniskirts. and when havoc decides to take matters into his own hands...well..._

_**kori hime** - bitchier than roy, hmm? that is, somehow, rather terrifying...and the image of ed in a miniskirt...probably not exactly what havoc had in mind. amusing though. very amusing..._

_**Dragons Maiden** - whee! glad you liked!_

_**Chaos of Hearts** - lively is most definately one way to describe it. -grin- good to hear from you again!_

_**Honeywell **- verily, i am alive. well, mostly. and yes, i consider PMS-y a word. so there. now it is._

_**Torii **- when all else fails, the direct approach. that and havoc really is awesome with the rifle._

_**SpinningAvia** - havoc really does have a hard time in these drabbles...doesnt he?_

_**Animegoil** - project miniskirt must not fail! ahem. well. and the whole havoc jealous of ed feeling...it was not unintentional. bwahahahah!_

_**Akira-Asakura** - whew! you read them all in one sitting. you deserve a medal. i am so glad you like them! as for your request, it sounds fun to write! give me a few days, and it shall be done!_

_**Dustwind** - thank you for the review! and it is soooo good to be back. the downtime was so depressing! i will try not to work too hard...really i will. _

_well damn. i am more or less caught up with review responses! w00t! you all rock and it is so good to be back and writing again._


	69. Drabble the SixtyNineth Havoc and Fury

_i work retail. in a mall. and it is getting to be easter...so i am surronded by cute little easter ducks all day...every day. i blame this drabble on that. well, that and that fact i love writing havoc/fury.-fireun_

* * *

"Well…it looks a little too small to eat…"

"JEAN!" Fury squeaked in an offended sort of terror.

The duckling, being the object of the discussion but unable to understand the proceedings, waddled happily around the table top discovering such interesting things as toast crumbs left over from breakfast and a little bit of a pancake.

"Maybe if we keep letting it eat good home cooked meals…" Havoc lifted the pancake bit the duckling was worrying at and dangled it in front of the small creature.

Fury scooped the duckling up into protective and most likely tight arms, resulting in a sort of half aborted quack on the duckling's part, most likely in self-defense. "We are not eating him! He is an orphan. He needs a home and love! Not a pot of hot water." Fury sniffed a bit, offended and unhappy. "Anyway, since your cooking is miserable, you wouldn't be able to eat him, since I am obviously not going to help."

"My cooking isn't that bad, is it?" Havoc drawled, toothpick dancing along his lip as he spoke, oral fixations needed something to…well, fixate on and Fury had declared the house a no-smoke zone.

"You put things in hot water and wait for them to fall apart. Every time."

"It works. You eat it."

"Only because you make it." Fury managed a tiny little blush from around the now struggling avian.

Sensing a sort of victory near at hand, Havoc leaned forward, grinning. "Oh? And what does _that_ mean?"

Point for Havoc. Fury blushed an amazing shade of red, held the duckling a little too tightly, much to its dismay, and incited it to rebellion. With a quack that would most likely translate into something angry enough to make Edward pause the duckling wiggled a bit, moving into position, and bit Fury's nose.

Fury dropped it back onto the table with a yelp, lifting a hand to access the damage. Havoc knew tactics, now was a brilliant time to lean forward and plant a chaste little kiss on his partners damaged nose. While this action obviously pleased the other man, he was just as obviously unwilling to give any ground. "We are still not eating him. He is just young and irritable."

"Yeah, well, the Colonel hasn't decided to charbroil the shrimp yet, so I guess it makes sense." Havoc went back to teasing the duckling, which was muttering to itself in a throaty, quacky sort of way, with bits of leftover breakfast.

"Though, Cain, if Mustang ever gets around to setting Ed on fire, we eat the duck."

* * *

_day off from work means drabble AND comment response! wheee! would you believe i woke up, thought of this one, scratched a note on a piece of paper by the bed, and went back to sleep? life is awesome when i dont have to get up before the sun in the morning. gonna go play video games and write ALL day! -fireun_

_**Kallia** - thank you for the review! i am glad you think they are all good! so many of them now. as for hangovers, i have the sneaking suspicion Hughes was fine the next morning, which would only make Mustangs headache all the more infuriating...and amusing._

_**Nemu** - at least Riza showed up in time to keep Maes from trying his little firebreathing experiment...and YAY! someone agrees with my view on roy/ed! whoohoooo!_

_**Jeva **- i am sure Maes would have regretted the ensuing blaze had he tried his idea in a bar. his favorite bar. full of flamable things like good brandy...waste of brandy! good to hear from you again! -glomp-_

_**Psycho 24** - the boys are not behaving. it isnt winry's fault. i am on version 6.0 of the drabble. i almost have something i think is worth posting for someone. it is not dead! i promise! it is just being...difficult. -shakes fist at the drabble-_

_**SpinningAvia **- i have this feeling that Riza gets to play sitter a lot. who else would be willing! well, willing and not likely to be set on fire or poked with the wrong end of a knife._

_**Animegoil** - i have seen some simply gorgeous art of havoc/roy. sometimes it lures me to write... though i am rather staunchly in the roy/ed camp pairing wise. mostly because havoc stays with fury, dammit! they are too cute to be denied! -strikes a silly pose- _

_**Chaos of Hearts** - i figured it out! riza doesnt rake in the promotions as then someone else would have to babysit the boyo's! and seriously, who else could do as good a job as good ol first lieutenant hawkeye? and they most definately drive her nuts, in that annoyingly loving sort of way. wait...is that a giant cookie? you are too kind. -munches happily- glad i am stuck withya! you leave reviews and feed me cookies! -glomp-_

_**Dragons Maiden** - far as i can tell, it is called RoyAi for a couple of reasons. Ai love. RoyAi some sort of roy love sort of dealy. there is first reason. it does stick exclusively to Roy/Riza pieces, so i am almost thinking it is almost a sort of pun off of the other camp, shonen ai. who knows if this is the actual reason. i just snagged the terminology way back when, and since it made some sort of sense to me, as i just tried to make sense of in writing, i just took it for granted._


	70. Drabble the Seventieth Ed

_ok. so this is what wandered out of the Al and Ed competition for Winry's affection. this is about the, oh, i dont know, eighth draft. the boys were not being helpful. at all. they didnt want to play along when they were older, and Ed kept complaining about girls having cooties. really. some people...GAH! i hope it turned out ok...-fireun_

* * *

Ed rubbed the side of his face, frowning. Why had Al hit him so hard? He had just been trying to help…Ok; maybe help wasn't the right word in this case…but…brothers shared everything, right, especially brothers as close as he and Al? The suggestion that he make flowers for Winry because he was better shouldn't have made Al so mad.

And definitely shouldn't have prompted the hit it did.

"Jeeze, Al…my jaw really hurts." Ed muttered, wondering if he could figure out how to transmute something nice and cold to hold against it.

Somewhere between alchemy and pained confusion a couple of mental wires made a much-needed connection.

Winry.

Al.

Flowers.

"Ooooh." Suddenly the little fits of blushing, the weirdly shy smiles, and the interest in visiting Auntie Pinako whenever possible made sense. It wasn't that Ed was clueless; it was just Al was damn good at not showing what was on his mind. Apparently, in the case of Winry's affections, the two of them were not sharing in a brotherly fashion, which Ed had originally, nonchalantly assumed, but…perhaps competing?

Which was a bit terrifying in it's own right. If it prompted fits of random abuse on Al's part, it was going to be intolerable.

And…all things said…Ed thought that little bit of twisting in his stomach was less hunger and more some bizarre form of jealousy, which didn't leave him sure exactly who he was jealous of.

One thing was certain though; he needed to make something nice and get it to Winry. Immediately. Before Al got too far ahead.

* * *

_**Kori hime** - there will, most definately, be more Roy/Ed. soon. trust me. _

_**Animegoil** - deviantart. i find some simply adorable fma art there. that and in the fma communities on lj._

_**SpinningAvia** - i hear the ps2 game is horrid to play..._

_**Chaos of Hearts** - more cookies! -dances- see, i figure the duck is safe, as roy will most likely get around to toasting maes before ed. _

_**Dustwind **- riza had the same reaction as you - firebreathing would have less than awesome results. glad to be writing again! _

_**ShenYue** - awww...thanks!_

_**Kallia** - i am glad i helped out an inner havoc/fury fangirl. hell, i am trying to create havoc/fury fangirls. the pair of them need the love and encouragement. and now you have created an image of Hughes bopping around a very hungover Roy trying to make his good pal feel better with pictures of Elysia. we all know it would happen..._

_**Starzki** - i thought it was rather appropriate...considering i wrote the thing with a bottle of expensive irish whiskey in my lap. drunk!maes and drunk!roy are so much fun to write!_

_**Dragons Maiden** - i can see most of the guys in the office making bets like that...and i cent decide whether to laugh or run and hide..._

_well damn. 70 drabbles. if i can make it to 100 i can die a happy person._


	71. Drabble the SeventyFirst Roy

_...there are no words. -fireun_

* * *

"…Lieutenant, what is this?"

"A book, sir."

Colonel Mustang twitched slightly, a movement that was part irritation, part frustration. "I know that, Lieutenant. I am not blind. I was asking what the hell is it doing here and where did it come from?"

"I wouldn't know, sir. I do not make a habit of reading your mail."

"No, instead you make a habit of harassing your superiors when they would much rather take a break from the office for a bit…" Mustang muttered under his breath.

Apparently not quietly enough. There was a distinctive click, right before Lieutenant Hawkeye inquired, politely, "What was that, sir?"

"Nothing. Thank you for your hard work." Mustang nodded to acknowledge Hawkeye's salute, and watched her leave. Now…to figure out the origin of the book sitting, rather innocuously, in the center of his desk atop the usual interdepartmental paper work.

It had a rather plain cover…no signs of tampering or any such threats to his personal safety…Curious, he flipped open the cover.

It is said his howl of rage could be heard across Central, perhaps even further.

Maes Hughes flashed a mammoth grin at Havoc, Hawkeye, and the other collected officers now staring at him in abject terror. "What the hell did you DO!" Havoc sputtered, unlit cigarette falling, forgotten, to the floor.

"I found the peeeeeeeeeerfect book for our dear Colonel."

"MAES!" Mustang roared from his office.

"And I see he appreciates it completely. Well, my work here is done." With a sketchy salute, Maes Hughes ran like hell.

Which was, most likely, in his own best interest, as when Mustang exited the office a moment later, he had one of those Looks on his face, the ones that promised a crispy death to anyone who got in his way.

When he was safely gone, Hawkeye entered his office to see just what had set him off. There was that book, open on his desk…Hawkeye read the title, and a startled snicker escaped her mouth. "A guide book to dating and marriage…Maes, you really do try to get killed, don't you?"

* * *


	72. Drabble the SeventySecond Roy and Ed

_people were asking for some Roy/Ed...so here ya go! ok, so it is more implied than anything else...but it is there. so HAH. -fireun_

* * *

Roy Mustang had a headache. Not the irritating kind, but one you could feel all the way down the spine- the type that kicked you in the balls, stole your lunch money while you were down, and then said rude things about your mother. His vision wavered in time with his pulse, with each rhythmic rush of pain. At least it was predictable…

His headache was, most likely, the reason why the sound of his door opening set his teeth to grinding in frustration, which, of course ignited a new strain of pain atop of the rest. Not exactly the desired result. What was worse was that he could recognize the tread, the aggressive placement of each foot.

Edward Elric was not someone he wanted to deal with right now. The youg man demanded a certain verbal tact and talent Roy did not feel like manipulating at that moment. And Ed inevitably raised his voice.

"I am busy, Fullmetal. Come back and bother me later." Roy didn't look up to acknowledge the young mans presence. It wasn't a slight on his part, he just knew the movement would set his head screaming, and damn if he was going to show pain in front of Ed- it was like bleeding in the presence of predators and only served to make them all the more aggressive.

"I didn't come to bother you, bastard colonel." Ed huffed, continuing his advance across the office.

"Oh?" This was the point in the conversation where Roy would normally raise both head and eyebrow archly, managing to be blasé and suggestive all at once. As that was currently in no way a valid option, he settled with pausing for a moment in his writing.

Ed made some sort of disparaging sound in response, pausing beside the desk. Maybe he had a report to turn in? As Roy shuffled through all current and recent assignments, Ed moved once more, coming to stand directly behind the seated colonel. So deep in pained and painfully slow thought was Roy that he jolted upright in surprise as he felt a hand on the base of his neck.

"What…!"

"Shut up." Ed grumbled, his hand moving…kneading…

Much to his dismay, Roy heard a quiet groan part pain and part appreciation as Ed began working at the mass of strained muscles that made up the base of his neck and shoulders…and then moved up to the base of the skull…

Ed felt Roy lean into the massage, felt the tension finally start to ease out of the man, and his face broke into a crooked grin. Neither of them particularly wanted to admit how pleasant they found each end of the experience, but neither one of them seemed particularly anxious to stop any time soon.

* * *

_two drabbles tonight, so no responses to comments. i am le tired. will get those in tomorrow. am at the parents house, which means i have time to write like mad! -fireun_


	73. Drabble the SeventyThird Roy and Maes

_The request was as follows- "Roy and Hughes being friends and, for once, Hughes not torturing Roy with pictures". i figure this counts. -fireun_

* * *

"Can't sleep either?"

Roy turned, seeking the speaker with a smile on his face. Maes sat, back against a tree a few feet away from the front of the building, bottle in the crook of one arm. "Whatcha got there?"

"Brandy, care to indulge?" Maes lifted the bottle, waving it in a slightly inebriated yet inviting fashion.

"You don't mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, pal. Not at all. In fact, I brought the bigger bottle, so all is well." Maes shuffled to the side a bit to accommodate his friend's lean form, the manic grin shifting into a more serious concern. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing much. State of the government, death and destruction, protection of loved ones. The usual."

"Helluva lot to sift around up there. I suggest dousing it in good brandy." Maes shoved the bottle into Roy's arms, and then passed a keen eye along his reclining form. "Seriously though, how are you?"

"Better. Don't worry, no threat of my trying to revive the dead anytime soon." At Maes' sideways glance Roy lifted his hands in defense, dropping the bottle. A deft snatch on Maes' part saved the alcohol from a tragic demise. "Really, Maes. I am better. A good solid punch between friends appears to have helped get my head back on straight."

"As straight as possible, eh?" Maes stood and stretched with a massive yawn. "Well, the brandy is yours. Make good use of it."  
As Maes started to amble off, a small detail came to Roy's attention. "Maes!"

"Hmm?"

"What had you awake so late?"

"A woman."

"Miss her?"

"Every second I am away, Roy. Every second I am away." Maes slouched his shoulders as if to ward off the late night chill. But Roy knew better, knew him better. "We'll get back soon."

"I know." There was a definite wistful tone to Maes' chronically cheerful voice, a tone that Roy felt honored to be privy to. Maes turned his head for a moment and mock scowled at Roy. "None of that now, _I_ was trying to take care of _you_."

"Let me take care of you sometime, Maes."

"Naw, I get by just fine." The manic grin was back in place, and Roy was sure the man actually stuck his tongue out before resuming his walk.

Roy settled back against the tree, shaking his head gently in exasperation. Dutifully he applied a liberal amount of Maes' cure-all, enjoying the pleasant warmth it sent throughout his body with each sip. It wasn't that he had conceded the win to Maes this evening…In another night or so, they would sit up again at night, viewing the starts through the gentle haze of inebriation. Maybe next time Roy could lend Maes the proverbial, and much needed, shoulder.

* * *

_responses tomorrow...i promise...-fireun_


	74. Drabble the SeventyFourth Maes

_hey! look! i can still write short drabbles! go me! -fireun_

* * *

"Hey, cutie." Maes whispered before slipping silently into his infant daughter's bedroom. It was a ritual of sorts, this pausing to visit his little one before heading off to deal with whatever event had pulled him from his wife's arms in the first place.

He would run a large calloused hand along soft downy hair, and smile at the wonder of it all. His daughter. There were few things in life that filled him with such pure joy. He would lower his face to breathe in the musky, powdery smell that lingered around every infant, brush a kiss on the crown of her head, and whisper "I will be back as soon as I am done with work, beautiful."

Then Maes would straighten, readjusting the jacket of his uniform before treading silently down the hall from Elysia's room and out the front door. He was no alchemist, no hero, but when the knives came out and it was time to work he had something precious to defend, something beautiful to take care of. He had a family to look after, his little piece of divine grace.

And no mercy for those who threatened that sanctity.

* * *

_**Nemu** - thanks! i so see their relationship that way, a sort of "not that i actually like being around you but you wanna go get dinner or something?" real fun/interesting to write. and after ze nap i will most definately fire ze missles. unless i dont get ze coffee first._

_**Chaos of Hearts** - Maes? lay off the pictures? surely you jest! i dont think there is a force in any universe strong enough to pull that man away from his photos..._

_**Jeva** - i am glad i continue to make ya happy! makes these worth writing!_

_**Kweli **- jean calling cain little one is something a few of us havoc/fury fans have adopted. it just seems appropriate._

_sorry for not replying to all your reviews! -hangs head in shame- i am a terrible person...just so busy. stupid papers that have to be written for grad school... -fireun_


	75. Drabble the SeventyFifth RoyAi!

_for **Akira-Asakura**, who reminded me it really has been awhile since i had some royai in here. -sheepish- _

* * *

"You…what?"

It was almost comical to hear the blunt disbelief in Riza's voice, and really would have been amusing but for the fact Roy was trying, very hard, to be very serious. "I want to know if you would like to go to dinner. This evening. I made reservations."

"You already made reservations?" Riza settled, apparently, on a bland sort of wary as she regarded Roy, one eyebrow raised.

"Riza, it isn't like that. I was merely hoping you would accept my invitation, I was not at all assuming."

"I'm sure, sir."

Damn. Military formality was not what he was after… "I would like to take you to dinner, Riza."

She looked at him, so long and so silently Roy could swear he felt the sweat forming due to his anxiety. Damn, this was not at all as easy as asking a random attractive woman to dinner out of boredom. he actually cared whether or not she accepted the invitation! Just when he thought all hope was gone, and he should slink back into his office in defeat, a smile broke across Riza's usually stern face.

"It would be my pleasure, sir."

He could feel the silly smile that spread across his own face in response, but made no effort to pull it back under control. "Excellent. I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Sounds fine. That gives me enough time to finish up here and get back to feed Hayate and change."

As Riza turned, intending to get back to her daily work, Roy called out. "One other thing, Riza."

She turned slightly. "Yes sir?"

"Don't you dare call me 'sir' this evening."

"Duly noted, sir." She grinned, saluted, and continued on her way.

* * *

_a/n - well people. this is the 75th. feels like a huge number. i have been at this what...four months or so? whew. you guys are awesome for sticking with all this insanity. i seriously never know what drabble is going to pop out next. well, unless i get requests, then there is some sort of planning involved... since i responded to most of the reviews on the last drabble a couple of hours ago, i will wait until the next to respond to more. thank you though for the reviews. thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou. will be back home tomorrow. and hopefully have a change to get another drabble and responses posted. -fireun_


	76. Drabble the SeventySixth Havoc and Fury

_like i said, whenever i read some of Spades' stuff i become inspired to write some Havoc/Fury. -fireun_

* * *

It was raining that afternoon, which made it damn hard to light a cigarette, a fact that Havoc was cursing in a rather repetitive monotone, having run out of all the creative and energy-laden ones hours ago.

Pretty much around the time the nurses had sent him packing, their argument being that if he sat waiting any longer they would have to set up a room in which to treat his exhaustion adequately. He hadn't gone far, just outside, hidden on the far side of the building so as to remain unnoticed by the nurses as they came and went for their shifts.

Also directly beneath the third window from the left, on the fourth floor.

"Havoc?" the slightly tinny voice startled him from his lethargic contemplation of a soggy cig. He rolled his head to the side, and sluggishly registered the uncertain stance of one Alphonse Elric.

"Aren't you going to rust?" he managed, processing through the combined facts of 'rain equals wet' and 'wet leads to rust'.

"I'll be fine. If I do rust, brother or I can fix it with alchemy." Alphonse inched a step or two closer. "Are you alright, Mr. Havoc?"

"Sure, kid. Just peachy fine." Havoc drawled, discarding the sodden smoke with a slight grimace. "Just a little preoccupied."

"You'll get sick if you stand in the rain like this…"

"Naw. Just waiting around. Going to have a smoke then get myself home."

"No offense, Mr. Havoc, but you have been here for hours. Brother told me so."

"Your brother should just sod off and mind his own business." Havoc muttered, already in the process of mangling another unlit cigarette.

"It wont help if you get sick as well." Al's voice was quietly forceful.

"Al, it would help me a lot if you would just wander home. Please." The last word cracked as Havoc clenched his hands. "I will go inside soon. I promise, alright?"

Al nodded slightly and walked off, determined to make sure Havoc kept his promise. As soon as the boy was gone, Havoc looked up, ignoring the rather cold rain falling directly onto his face, his attention completely on the fourth floor, third window from the left.

"Hey, little one. I will be right up. Just let me get a cup of coffee. If the nurses try and chase me out this time, I will threaten to stand in the rain until I get sicker than you. See what they say to that, eh?"

When Al went to check on Havoc later, he found the lanky man fast asleep in a chair next to the bed containing a pale and sleeping Cain Fury. Satisfied, he left as silently as possible, deciding to check back in the morning.

* * *

_well damn. people really DID want more RoyAi in here! so many reviews!-grin-_

_**Honeywell **- drabble master, eh? that just made my day. -hug-_

_**Animegoil **- yeah, i always see Riza as having the upper hand in that relationship. where with roy/ed, it seems more appropriate for roy to be in charge. _

_**Nymphia** - WHEE! -scampers away from fan flock, hides behind Al- thank you for the compliment! i appreciate it. as for a nina drabble, i shall start on it next!_

_**kori hime** - i like reminding people every now and then that there is a very serious side to maes, mostly when it comes to his family and roy. such a deep character...-glomps on hughes-_

_**Nemu** - roy deserves a silly smile every now and then...especially when someone like riza agrees to go to dinner! go roy! go!_

_**Jeva**- aww...thank you for the huggles! that made my day all cheery!_

_**Chaos of Hearts** - the fact that maes has something to protect makes me think of him as one of the stronger characters when push comes to shove. and i loooooove the Roy/Riza pairing, mostly because it gives me an excellent excuse to write a more unsure Roy. i just always have this image of riza being able to get him off balance all the time. kinda like a school boy with this huuuuuge crush on the popular girl...-is so going to get set on fire for saying that- really...it all makes sense in my head..._

_**Dominus** - yay for unlurking! tis good to hear from you, and glad you approve of the hughes!drabbles. he is my fav._

_**XoRizaHawkeyeoX** - thank you so much!_

_**Sinister Tomato** - hullo and welcome to the insanity! i am glad you enjoy the drabbles. makes writing them worth it. -grin-._

_**Mortari** - yay for smiles! studies are my priority, but there are some nights when drabbles just seem like so much more fun...-goes back to writing papers on metaphysics...- it is so good to hear from ya again!_

_so many reviews! i love you guys! -group glomp-_


	77. Drabble the SeventySeventh Roy and Havoc

_"write a drabble that begins and ends with the word pie, and does not use the word anywhere else. And make it be an evil pie. and a slashy drabble." that was the challenge i was given yesterday. this is what happened. enjoy -fireun _

* * *

"Pie." Roy's nose twitched, trying to interpret the sensory information he was receiving. It smelled almost right, savory, sugary, but for some reason, slightly…off. There was some taint, some sort of culinary incorrectness that was plaguing the interest and appreciation striving to bloom.

It had been such a long time since lunch…

Roy opened the door of his apartment, inhaling deeply as the scent intensified due to apparent proximity. Yep, the smell was most definitely coming from his apartment, his kitchen in fact. Apples. There were definitely apples involved he decided kicking his boots off in an absent-minded fashion.

"Hello?"

"Yo, Mustang." Havoc leaned out of the kitchen, toothpick clenched in a winning smile.

"…Havoc, are you wearing an apron?"

"It was in the kitchen." Havoc shrugged.

"It was a gag gift. From Maes."

"Well, it kept flour from getting on my shirt."

"It has….lace and frills…"

"Whatever. Get over here! I baked you a treat."

That was, perhaps, the most terrifying thing Roy Mustang had ever heard. With a growing sense of dread he followed Havoc's inviting gesture, to stare in amazed disbelief at the bit of malformed pastry that sat in a place of honor on the counter.

"Here ya go, give it a try!" Havoc shoved a fork into Roy's hands, and the stood back, waiting.

Looked at Havoc's cooking, and tried to ignore the feeling that it was, in some way, looking back. Slowly…he edged the fork closer, knowing at least tasting it would be easier than trying to argue his way out giving it a try.

Steaming, gooey pastry went into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, paused as he felt it snake its way through the stomach and directly into intestinal displeasure, and turned to met Havoc's anticipatory smile. "Havoc…there is no way in _hell_ that can be considered a pie."

* * *

_responses later today...got home from work at 7am and am le tired...gonna nap for a wee bit. -fireun _


	78. Drabble the SeventyEighth Hoho papa!

_dear god...the fluff...fluffy!bunny bit me...after this, back to your regularly scheduled drabbles...-fireun_

* * *

The sun was warm, a slight breeze keeping its noontime heat from being too uncomfortable. The book he was reading, propped up on his elbows in the soft, thick spring grass was enthralling, he was sure, but his attention kept wandering in a way he still was not used to. He kept getting distracted by something far more interesting in a far different way, as how could a treatise on alchemy compare to the toddler napping contentedly on his broad back?

Not just any toddler. He tried to peer over his shoulder, a movement fairly impossible as he didn't want to move much, didn't want to disturb the sleeping boy. His boy, with a fluffy tuft of blond hair, chubby baby cheeks, and tiny hands curled into fists as he slept. His boy. A far grander creation than anything described in the musty book held loosely in his hands.

That light spring breeze shifted some of that light, downy hair in such a way as to tickle at the little one's nose. His face wrinkled in sleepy displeasure, sneezed once, then shifted a bit. Hohenheim was afraid, for a moment, that the toddler's nap had been spoiled, but Edward apparently decided sleep was a far better idea than waking up all the way and fussing and burrowed against his fathers back with a sigh.

"Do you need anything, dear?"

He gently turned his head, and his attention, from the sleeping Edward, to meet the eyes of the beautiful woman kneeling at his side. "Nothing at all, as long as you plan on staying there."

A soft, loving smile on her face, Trisha moved her skirt and folded gracefully into a sitting position beside her husband, who closed the book he really had no intention of reading anyway and leaned his head on her knee. She pulled his hair tie free and ran a hand through his long blond mane slowly, caressing. "I can't believe you let him sleep on your back like that. It has to be uncomfortable…" She chuckled quietly.

"He sleeps better there." Hohenheim murmured. "And I like having him close." As Trisha bent and placed a kiss on the crown of his head Hohenheim sighed gently; it really didn't get any better than this.

* * *

_**Nemu** - something about Roy's nose twitching...hmmm..._

_**Jeva** - awww...so much cute! glad you are still liking these!_

_**Dragon's Maiden** - yer telling me. i hadnt slept in 48 hours when i got that challenge, so the crack worked out alright._

_**SpinningAvia** - roy doesnt think the whole pie thing was so cute. he has been taking stomach meds for days now as a result..._

_**Animegoil **- drabbles usually take me about 15 minutes to write. sometimes they take a wee bit longer, but not too much._

_**Dustwind** - another vote for farman and breda...looks like i will have to get cracking...my superior creative skills! -dies- i drink lots of coffee and am full of crack and love for hoho-papa. that tis all!_

_**Akira-Asakura** - love triangle...i could make that work...-wanders off to plot happily-_

_**wolfenzippo** - and more votes for farman and breda. the guys sure got popular fast...good to hear from ya again! and i have always seen havoc as incompetent in the kitchen...no idea why!_

_**ShirokiRyuu** - whoohoo! someone followed the link and read all the crack! dear god...did you read them all in one sitting?i really need to get a badge made for everyone that has lived through that...i loooove royai. lovelovelove. no idea why i dont write more of it...ah well. yeah, i wasnt a huge slash fan when i got into the fandom, and i still prefer the more cannon pairs, but damn some of the slashy ones can be written so romantically. like havoc/fury. i guess i slowly wandered over to the slash side, then leapt in with a grin and loud gleeful "w00t!". verily, tis fun to write._

_well, i got my paper done, and worked a 12 hour overnight shift...and things are more or less back to normal, well, as normal as my crack!brain ever gets. have ye olde pile of requests and challenges to muck through, so expect ye olde updates. and remember, even liches need love. have you hugged Hoho-papa today? -fireun_


	79. Drabble the SeventyNineth Roy and Maes

_another challenge - it had to include an immensely tall woman and the phrase "Well, i dont see it that way." -fireun _

* * *

Roy was trying very hard not to laugh. 

It should be noted that he was, more or less, failing miserably. His face has gained a shade of color far more suited to his specialty flames than usually pale flesh. Eyes watery with his struggle with amusement, Roy snorted out a strangled laugh.

"I'm sorry." Maes scratched the side of his head, his face a study in a perplexed sort of terror. He was cornered, which was something he had very little experience with, back up against the wall, literally, with an admittedly beautiful woman in front of him. A very tall beautiful woman, with legs that seemed to never end and the most beautiful blue eyes... She leaned forward, showing just a bit more of her admirable cleavage and smiled in a sultry sort of way.

"C'mon, Sergeant. You deserve a bit of fun." Her breath was sweet with cinnamon and clove, her teeth perfectly white.

Maes cast a baleful look over at Roy, who rather than running interference, was hunched over in a heroic effort not to cackle at his friends plight. It really wasn't fair. Maes was sure Roy owed him at least one or two at this point… "I have a girl back at home. It wouldn't be proper."

"Well, I don't see it that way." She leaned forward an inch or so more, as if trying to sway him with the power of her breasts alone.

Well, trying to be an honorable man-away-on-duty obviously wasn't going to cut it, and he was sure Gracia would understand the necessity of drastic measures, which left Maes with one sure way out. In a move of stunning dexterity he slid past his overly attentive fan and paused at Roy's side. With what he hopes was an apologetic smile, Maes threw an arm over Roy's shoulder and sidled close. "I really am sorry, ma'am, but I don't like women. Perhaps Alex Armstrong would be more fitting to someone of your gender and admirable stature."

Well, that had the required result. She pouted prettily, turned, and walked off, her hips swaying in a mesmerizing fashion. And as a bonus, Roy emitted what had to be a cross between surprise and embarrassment, twitching away from Maes.

"She was too tall for me." Maes grinned, thoroughly enjoying the way Roy currently looked like he had swallowed some sort of distasteful amphibian.

"You sonnuva bitch…" Roy grumbled.

* * *

_not on my comp, and short on time, so comment responses next time. sorry all! much love! -fireun_  



	80. Drabble the Eightieth

_dear god...teh fluff...it appears the angst!bunnies are on strike...-fireun_

* * *

He had wanted it to be perfect, needed it to be. Staring at the fruit of his labor, he felt frustration sting at his eyes in the form of an abrupt spatter of tears. It was close, but just not right. He couldn't seem to get it quite right. He felt his muscles tense in irritation and decided it was time to take a walk, get away from his efforts and settle down before trying again. Shoving his hands in his pockets he wandered off, intent on thinking about anything but what he had been trying so hard to create.

"Al?" Winry called. He usually spent evenings down by the river, thinking or playing with Den. When she finished her work for the day, she would often join him, taking walks, or just sitting any enjoying his company.

Tonight though he was proving to be rather elusive. He didn't answer her calls, which could be easily explained away by a short list of Usual Scenarios. Tonight, Winry was betting on Lost in a Book. Though, as she neared his favorite spot along the river and didn't see his familiar lean form hunched over whatever musty volume had caught his interest that time, Winry realized she had no idea where he had gotten to.

Something did catch her eye though, something glinting a bit in the blaze of sunlight reflecting off of the river. As curious as ever, she approached, swiftly coming to the conclusion that Al had been practicing his alchemy as she came to a stop beside what appeared to be a metal rose. Her expert eye picked up minute details such as the dewdrops crafted on petals just starting to open…

And the fact her name had been engraved in flowing script along one elegant curve of said petals.

"Al…"She whispered, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in her stomach, the blush she _knew_ was spreading across her face. Setting the treasure down carefully where she had found it, Winry settled on the stump that served as Al's reading chair. He had to come back at some point, and she would be waiting, those butterflies still engaging in frantic motions in her midsection. "Hurry up, dummy."

* * *

_note to self...stop writing drabbles when you are late for the bus...gonna have to hit up the comments tonight, i have like three more drabbles to post! -fireun_


	81. Drabble the EightyFirst Ed and Roy

_someone requested some more roy/ed...i cant for the life of me remember who, but here it is. -fireun_

* * *

To admit that he didn't hate Mustang was one thing, but to suggest that he actually….blech. Never mind that. Never mind the fact that he was, currently, curled up, rather contentedly, in a bed that was not his, with arms that were a rather distinctive brand of pale possessively around his midsection. Never mind the fact that there was a chin pressed gently against the top of his head, or that there was a hand trailing lazily through the ends of his unbound hair.

Sunlight was starting to poke its nosy way into the bedroom, and Ed mumbled a disgruntled suggestion that it was time to get moving. The arms around him had other ideas. They, apparently, were having far too much fun with his hair, with holding him in place. " 's too early." Mustang muttered, most likely still half asleep.

Never mind the fact that Ed sighed and leaned into Mustang, yawning slightly. He most definitely was not enjoying the man's company. Was not at all planning on lingering in his arms for at least another hour. It would make sense to suggest such things. They barely tolerated each other after all, right?

* * *

_ye gods...when did i get to over 400 reviews...-dies- well then, i am damn behind, but lets see how many responses i can squish in without burying the poor drabble itself... _

_**Chaos of Hearts** - writing anything with maes antics is awesome good fun. getting roy to be at the butt end of said antics just makes it all that much better. love those two._

_**Animegoil** - i too can imagine roys twitch and the sound he would make, and itdoes amuse me,which is most likely why i am going to die a horrible burning death at some point in the future..._

_**Nemu** - thank you! it was fun as hell to write. as per the Eddings...i thought the rose was stone, not metal...gah! now i have to go back and read the series...must find my copy of diamond throne..._

_**ShenYue** - well damn. my drabbles make the good life...i feel all...special and stuff. thankee!_

_**Akuma Shini Chisaii** - thank you so much! 3_

_**Sinister Tomato** - if you like the challenges, check out the set i am doing that is ALL challenges. only two so far, but i have a list of ones that i have been challenged with. and some of them are insane... and i also love hoho papa...obsessively so...if ya couldnt tell..._

_**Madam Midnight** - i am glad you like them! welcome to the insanity._

_and to all of you who liked the Al/Winry fluff...THEY ARE SO CUTE! I LOVE THAT PAIR! ok. i am done now. -fireun_


	82. Drabble the EightySecond Havoc and Fury

_ye gods...so busy. sorry about the sporadic updates! -fireun_

* * *

Eleven days, two hours, and twenty minutes.

One flask pillaged from Mustangs private stash and well over the number of packs of cigarettes that could be counted on two hands made up all that was keeping him going.

Eleven days, two hours, and twenty-one minutes.

It really wasn't fair of Hawkeye to insist that the no smoking order be enforced in the office, and it was damn poor form on Mustang's part to agree with her. The bastard most likely just wanted to score some points with the woman.

Eleven days, two hours, and twenty-two minutes.

"Havoc, go snag a smoke or something. You are making _me _anxious."

Havoc, haven been granted some sort of permission (although there was no technicality that could really allow for Farman's words to be construed as any sort of legit order) decided that skipping out of the office for a bit for a smoke was an excellent idea.

Its not like he was getting anything done anyway.

Eleven days, two hours, and forty-seven minutes was the official count as his cigarette burned itself down to uselessness. With a casual flip Havoc tossed the tiny stub away, his attention remaining fixed on the sheet of paper he had retrieved from his jacket pocket along with his cigarettes.

'_Jean- sorry about the short notice, but I am going to have to bow out of dinner this evening. There are fascinatingly complex communications issues at Eastern that need some attention, so I am going to be out of town for about two weeks. So sorry! –Cain'_

The note had been on his desk when he had gotten to the office that morning. After a loud fit of shouting and stomping he had settled in to comfortable chain smoking and clock watching, at least until Hawkeye noticed and ordered him to stop smoking in the office.

Eleven days, three hours, and two minutes. Hawkeye would be out to march him back to work any minute now…

Havoc though had other ideas. He settled himself in the booth, dialed, and waited for a connection.

"Eastern HQ."

"Yo, this is Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc. May I speak to Sergeant Major Cain Fury?"

"One minute please."

Havoc grinned as he waited. Two weeks was just too long to go without at least talking to Cain, and damn wouldn't the little guy be surprised to hear from him.


	83. Drabble the EightyThird Roy

_the angst!bunnies have returned. and there was much rejoicing. oh, and **SPOILERS** for **ep 25** folks. aight? -fireun_

* * *

There were times to pretend to be strong; to show the world that nothing it could sling your way could put a dent in your armor.

This was not one of those times.

His gut was telling him to make a run for it, to get out of there before he got hurt. Instinct was demanding he back away, avoid the danger. There wasn't danger though, not really. Just some old scars. There really shouldn't be anything that terrifying about a closed door, or a carefully maintained lawn. The childish chalk scrawls on the pavement shouldn't inspire such gut-wrenching agony.

But it did, and it seemed inappropriate to pretend stoic indifference.

He caught a glimpse of an impish face peering out at him from a window, curious, and somehow he pulled a smile out in response. It was impossible not to smile in response to those wide eyes, those disarmingly sweet features. He had seen them in more pictures than he could count over the years, and no matter how inappropriate or irritating the presentation, he couldn't help but smile. Elysia had inherited her father's effortless charm.

Roy took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

* * *

_i have three more, will post tomorrow. tired now, work in morning. will respond to comments in those ones. sorry for slacking off everyone! been so busy with work and grad school...-fireun_


	84. Drabble the EightyFourth Maes and Roy

_more roy abuse. it is becoming a sort of hobby i think... i am counting this as royai. it is...after a fashion... -fireun_

* * *

"Whatcha looking at, old man?"

Roy started as Maes' perpetually scruffy face appeared next to his, thoughtfully peering off in the direction that had been so absorbing Roy's attention while reaching one arm out to deftly rescue the cup Roy's sudden movement had toppled.

"What the hell! Can't you act normal once and awhile?"

"No need to snarl, Roy. I did act normal." Maes assumed an expression of deep sorrow as he straightened. "I spoke to you for about five minutes before I realized you weren't hearing me, not just indulging in your more common just plain ignoring me." Lightning fast, feigned sorrow was replaced with a rather smug amusement. "Though now that I see just what had your rapt attention, I think I can forgive you."

"Are you implying something?" Roy hissed out from gritted teeth.

"Only that you have fantastic taste in women." Maes grinned broadly.

"I was not looking at a woman."

"Were too. I saw you watching her over there, the blonde."

"Was not."

"Aww, c'mon Roy, it's not like I caught you ogling Havoc or something. What is there to be embarrassed about?"

"I am _not_ embarrassed." Roy clipped out each word with deadly precision, his face transforming into a glower that would have sent anyone with sense running.

Unfortunately this was Maes he was dealing with, who seemed to value nothing more than getting a rise out of Roy, not even his own life. Roy glared at Maes who smiled back, blissfully oblivious to his impending doom.

"Pardon me, sir's." An impassive, decidedly female, voice snapped both men out of their staring match. Roy decided, at that moment, that he was definitely killing Maes, as soon as the blond soldier left the immediate vicinity. He had been…admiring the woman. Just for a moment though, not this idiotic sort of drooling that his friend had accused him of. The fact that she was at their table, and might have heard even part of their argument, made Roy's suave exterior shudder and try frantically towards some sort of recovery.

Maes beat him to it. He rose with a surprisingly graceful movement of gangly limbs, smiling. "I am Maes Hughes. Don't bother with the whole rank thing. This is a mess hall. It doesn't matter. My friend here is Roy Mustang."

Maes' winning smile and irreverent attitude weaseled a tiny smile out of the woman. "Riza Hawkeye, sir."

"Well, Riza, I need to run a quick errand or three, why don't you keep my friend here company until I get back." Maes flashed a toothy smile and trotted off.

Roy cast a glance at Riza, who shrugged slightly and sat across from him. He was definitely going to kill Maes, charbroil him, slowly. Roy hated being embarrassed; hated feeling awkward, and Maes had done it to him again…

"Sir, I believe lunch was over about five minutes ago. Shouldn't we be getting back to duty?"

"Ah, yes…"Roy stood, his plans to lounge away at least fifteen more minutes shot to hell. "Well then, I will see you this evening?" He hoped so, so he could try this whole meeting her thing again. He did not want this to set a precedent. She deserved to be wined and dined…not stared at in a mess hall.

He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding when she smiled. "I look forward to it."

Maybe he would just…singe Maes a bit. Just for the gall of setting him up.

* * *

_i am the worst drabble writer ever...i will respond to comments soon. i promise. my life kinda went downhill and i have no time for anything apart from classes, work, and slamming my head into a wall with great enthusiasim... love you all and your comments really do make my day -fireun_


	85. Drabble the EightyFifth Ed

_explanation time- there is a community on lj that is entirely about an AU in which Ed has a son named Rowan. the utterly fantastic amount of fluff in that community spawned this little monster. enjoy! -fireun_

* * *

"Well, it must be time to stop for some lunch, eh?" Ed pushed his glasses back up his nose, put both arms to use holding his son, and looked for a promising spot. Seeing something that appeared appropriate, Ed started off the road, settling down a few feet off to the left, on a grassy bit beneath a tree. He plopped Rowan in his lap, and hauled his pack from his shoulder, digging about for food. Triumphantly acquiring both sandwich and bottle, he set to work getting both of them fed.

"This is one of those times I don't think anyone would believe their eyes." Ed chuckled; trying to convince Rowan the bottle was in fact an acceptable source of food. "I know, I know, you want a nap, but food first, ok?" Rowan made a gurgling noise that Ed chose to interpret as acceptance, and finally began to suck, albeit halfheartedly, at the bottle.

"We're both tired. But hey, I promise we will stop soon. Get a real dinner and a nice place to sleep." Ed mussed the baby's fluffy light hair and then retrieved his sandwich with his free hand. "I promised I would take care of you properly, didn't I? I might not have had the best father in the world myself, but I had a damn good role model." Ed chuckled, thinking back on the somewhat insane, somewhat inspiring, antics of Maes Hughes. He paused for a moment, looking down at the admittedly adorable baby in his arms...

"One thing Rowan, if I EVER get that enthusiastic about photos of you, spit up on me or something. Or better yet, spit up on the photos."


	86. Drabble the EightySixth Ed

_ok. this one needs an explanation. there is this community on lj devoted to a future in which Ed has a son named Rowan. the fluff!bunnies multiply at a mad rate there...and they spawned this drabble, and i felt the need to impose it on you all. enjoy! -fireun_

* * *

"Mustang!"

Roy twitched. There was something in the tone of Ed's voice, something familiar…He turned, caught sight of the rapidly approaching man, and froze.

Oh. Shit.

The gleam of gold eyes behind glasses…that silly smile…pictures clutched in a madly waving hand… "Why does this happen to _me_?" Roy asked no one in particular. There had to be a way to avoid this…

"MUSTANG!" Ed sounded so damn _happy_ as he skidded to a halt a few feet in front of the older man, beaming. "You have to see these! I am getting damn good with the camera, if I don't say so myself."

Roy had no choice but to at least glance at the pictures, as Ed shoved them practically up his nose. They were all baby pictures. Yup. From different angles at times, but still just pictures of the same fluffy haired cooing baby. "Very nice, now if you will excu…" Roy tried to look like he had Something Very Important To Do and took a step to the left.

Right into another batch of pictures that Ed had apparently alchemically pulled from the air.

"Look at this one! Rowan took his first steps!"

Roy peered at an image of what was most definitely an upright baby…but from the wobbly look to it, Rowan hadn't managed the stunt for very long. "Shouldn't you have been helping him?"

"Then who would take the pictures?"

Roy blinked. Ed genuinely looked concerned. That was about all he could take. It was just so…out of character. The Ed of years ago would fiercely deny that anything like this would ever occur. Roy did the first thing that came to mind. He felt the smirk spread its way across his face, heard the chuckle, and watched the familiar glint spark to life in Ed's eyes.

"What's so funny, Mustang?"

Roy ran a hand through his hair, giving the smirk a minute or two for full effect before speaking again. "And I thought Hughes was bad…"

It was good to know his reflexes were still top notch. He dodged out of the way of Ed's punch, laughing outright this time as he pointed out the fact that Ed's precious pictures were in the process of falling to the ground. "Your pictures, Edward!"

Roy Mustang was, as ever, a brilliant tactician. As Ed swore and gathered up his pictures, Roy sauntered off, a massive grin stretching across his face.

* * *

_love you all. cookies for everyone. fresh gooey cookies..._


	87. Drabble the EightySeventh RoyAi

_and some royai.**slight spoilers** for the **last few episodes**_. _**SPOILERS**_ _i say! -fireun_

* * *

It had been too close this time. Much too close.

Riza adjusted the blankets around the sleeping man, a small smile ghosting across her face as she imagined how he would snap at being fussed over so. She settled back onto her chair, assuming the vigilant position that had grown wearily familiar to the hospital attendants with a soft sigh. At least they had stopped trying to chase her off.

Mustang looked pale, even by his own particular standards. Having lost far too much blood, he had been in rather touchy condition for a few nerve-wracking days. And that wasnt the worst of it...

The left side of his face was a mass of bandages, and while they had done what they could, there was no longer a functioning eye under all that gauze. It was the loss of that eye that hurt the most, now that his life was secured. Those intent, striking eyes…

"If I look that bad, just bury me."

Riza jerked back out of her reverie at the sound of that gruff voice. Roy's remaining eye was cracked open, his face twisted in a grimace. "Sir!"

"Brandy?" he begged in a dry, forlorn voice.

"Water." Riza replied. "Doctors orders."

"Maes would have snuck some in for me." Roy muttered almost petulantly, casting a glance her way to see if the woeful complaint was swaying her at all.

That was the Roy she knew. All of the stress of waiting and watching, of wondering if he was going to be alright came crashing down, and Riza began to laugh. Roy looked at her, dumbfounded, as Riza bent double with her laughter. She leaned over, and threw a gentle hug around the prone man's shoulders. "It is good to have you back, sir."


	88. Drabble the EightyEighth Ed and Rowan

_and another bit of ed and rowan fluffy goodness. -fireun_

* * *

Ed's nose twitched, his attention immediately switching from the paper he was reading to the delicious aroma filling the air. Such a delicious, familiar smell…it poked at the neglected, nostalgic parts of his mind with the insistence of a bloodhound. He folded the paper carefully and stood. Which is when the front door opened, and Rowan stuck his head in, peering about.

"Hullo." Ed waved languidly, his attention on the fact that the opening of the door resulted in the tantalizing scent becoming stronger.

"Oh good! You're home." Rowan's face split into a smile that was altogether too familiar. Anyone who knew Ed had seen that grin, and would be running. He opened the door a bit more, moving to the side. "I brought some company over." When the door was fully open, Rowan waved a young woman in, pulling it shut behind them.

Ed blinked, waves of baby pictures flashing by in his mind. It was the eyes really. They still glittered with an impish amusement of the world that everyone had found irresistible. It had, apparently, managed to affect his son as well, for Rowan was standing there, a stupid smile on his face, and slight flush on his cheeks. "Dad, this is…"

"Elysia." Ed finished, caught somewhere between amusement and pleased disbelief. Oh, and chagrin. He really should have visited the Hughes' more often…

Elysia smiled broadly, offering the box she had entered with. "It's good to see you Mr. Elric. My mother sent this for you."

Ed looked at the box, finally able to tag the odor that had distracted him. "Is that…?"

"Yup!" Rowan could hardly hold still in his pleased pride.

A Gracia Hughes pie. Ed reached out reverently, accepting the unexpected gift. It was still warm…There was a small note attached to the box itself, which Ed removed as soon as he set the pie next to his neglected newspaper.

_'Happy Birthday, Edward.'_

Ed was stunned; touched and rather at a loss for words. He looked at Elysia with what he was sure was the stupidest smile to ever grace his features splitting his face.

She dropped a kiss onto his cheek, grinning. "Happy birthday!"

"Happy birthday!" Rowan echoed, hauling his father into a rib-snapping hug.


	89. Drabble the EightyNineth Havoc and Fury

"How long?"

It really wasnt fair. Who would he have dinner with in the evening, make breakfast for in the morning, and who would walk the dogs with him? Well, he did manage on his own fairly well, had been doing it for years after all.

But the thought of going back to doing that alone, even if only for a limited amount of time…

He didn't realize his eyes were tearing until he was engulfed in a hug that smelled of bitter smoke and the almost too strong cologne used in an attempt to cover up said smoke. It was a smell that had gone beyond familiar and straight into beloved.

"Hey, its only for a week. You'll be ok."

It was always oddly endearing to hear that gentle, gruff tone, the slight hitch. It was a private mannerism, something reserved for the quiet moments at the end of the day or the warm instant they both woke in the morning.

It was the tone of voice that made Cain feel special.

Inhaling deeply he turned his face, pressing it tightly against Jean's left arm. "Take care of yourself." He muttered. "Don't forget to eat. You forget to eat when you're busy."

"How about you pack me a lunch?"

The wistful note in Jean's voice brought a tiny smile to Cain's face. A bigger smile blossomed as Jean pressed a kiss onto the crown of his head. "It's going to be a proper lunch. Someone has to make sure you eat right."

Jean heaved an all-suffering sigh. "No snacks?"

He had such a pitiful look on his face…and he was going to be away… "Fine. A snack." Cain relented. "But only one."

Jean emitted a triumphant whoop, and all but smothered the smaller Cain in another rib-crunching hug before ambling off to the kitchen. Cain followed, a bemused but happy look on his face.

* * *

_i didnt forget about you all, just been posting mostly on lj, and a few of you have wandered over to visit. if you want to keep on top of my writing, check it out. name is fireun there, same as here. and things generally get posted on lj long before i get them up in there. -loves you all-_


	90. Drabble the Nintieth Trisha

"Pardon me…"

The voice was deep, and seemed so utterly baffled, that Trisha could not help but grin as she turned around. The speaker matched the voice perfectly, a large man scratching the back of his head with one hand, sheepish smile on his face, his other hand clutching a worn looking suitcase.

"I do hate to impose, but I am new around here…"

"Not an imposition at all!" Trisha's grin bloomed into an all out smile. "What is it I can do for you?"

"Well, I was wondering if you could show me around a bit." His stomach chose that instant to voice a rather strong opinion, and the discomfited expression on his face intensified. "A restaurant would be a good place to start. My treat, of course, as a thank you."

"That isn't necessary!"

"I insist!" He bowed elegantly. "It would be improper to impose otherwise."

She held out a hand. "I am Trisha."

"Hohenheim." His hand dwarfed hers as he clasped it, smiling. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

* * *

_hoho-papa is love._


	91. Drabble the NinetyFirst Havoc and Fury

_havoc/fury fluff for spades. because spades is love. -fireun _

* * *

Cain blinked. Of all the things he had expected upon returning home after a particularly long and rather drafty assignment a home cooked meal and a rather nicely dressed Jean had not even wandered through his more optimistic of fantasies.

And Jean wasn't smoking.

Hell, there wasn't even a tinge of bitter smoke anywhere in the apartment. Only the tempting aroma of what had to be some sort of chicken stew. Cain's mouth watered, politely reminding him that while field rations were filling they had the sensory appeal of stone.

"Welcome back." Jean greeted, nonchalant.

"…Wha?" To his chagrin, that was all the eloquence he could muster.

"Someone had to feed the dog. And the cat. Not to mention that weird turtle I didn't even know about. I gave it some chicken. I hope that is all right." Jean tossed a small set of keys into the air a few times, a cat-in-cream grin on his face. "Now, are you going to stand there like an idiot or do you want some dinner?"

"Sure…" more than a little unsteady, Cain made his way to the table and plopped himself into his usual chair with a very audible grunt.

"Oh, and did I mention I picked up a bottle of red?" Jean snagged a bottle and two glasses from the counter and set them in the center of the table with an almost comic flourish, leaving a rather overwhelmed Cain with the impression that there should have been some sort of brass ensemble sounding triumphantly in the background.

Then arms snaked around him from behind, bringing Cain out of his confused thoughts with a jerk. Jean rested his head on Cain's shoulder as he knelt and embraced him from behind. "Welcome home, little one."

It was a little while longer before they got around to having dinner.


	92. Drabble the NinetySecond RoyAi

_royai for rukusho. _

* * *

Roy Mustang was drunk. Not the accidental 'whoops! I seem to have had too much' but the determined attacked against cognition that was the banner of the truly determined. Or the truly desperate.

Riza looked down at her commanding officer, who really wasn't in a state to be commanding much of anything at present, and sighed.

"Sir, time to head home."

Roy turned his head to regard her, his movement jerky as messages took some time getting from the brain to actual muscles, some messages fizzing out as soon as they noticed just how saturated the man's bloodstream was with rather cheap brandy. He looked to be thinking deeply for a moment, and finally opened his mouth to bestow a stunning bit of wisdom upon his first lieutenant. "I don' wan'to."

"Sir, I really think…"

Roy motioned at the drink sitting untouched beside him on the bar. "Was saving it for Maes, but he isn' gonna come. You can have't." Roy took that opportunity to glare balefully at the glass from bloodshot eyes. The glass didn't appear to be cowed.

"Sir?" Riza was a bit perturbed. This was not usual Mustang behavior, even for a very, very drunk Mustang…

Roy sighed, settling his face into one hand as he peered in her general direction. "Sit. Drink. I wan' company."

"Let me call Havoc, sir. This is more of his…"

"Sit. Is an order." Roy snapped, trying hard for his usual commanding precision.

More than a little unsure, Riza perched on the edge of the barstool beside her inebriated commander, wondering what the hell to do next. She eyed the glass, not really wanting to drink…and felt a weight settle against her side. Roy huffed a soft exhalation of breath and leaned against her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir." Riza smiled gently, deciding that a drink might not be out of place after all. it appeared she was going to linger for a bit after all.


	93. Drabble the NinetyThird Havoc and Fury

Jean Havoc sneezed.

Which was a shame, as he had been having the most interesting drea…oh. Jean blinked as his mind caught up with his eyes and informed him, politely, that it was not a dream and that was in fact the adorably diminutive Cain Fury curled in his arms. His arms, not to be left out of this little informative session, took the opportunity to state how perfectly sized the sergeant major was for hugging.

Huh. He remembered dinner. It had been pleasant, wonderful conversation and exceedingly pleasant company. He remembered going back to his place for a few drinks with the uncharacteristically talkative Cain…

He remembered the glint in those eyes, the sudden determination…

And he remembered the kiss.

His lips chimed in, reminding him it had been exceedingly pleasant in that surprised, tingly sort of way.

The little guy must have worked up the courage to do that for weeks. Jean looked down at the man in his arms, who looked surprisingly older without his glasses on. And a lot more vulnerable.

Jean sneezed again.

Which was rather unfortunate as it jostled Cain just enough to wake him.

Who peered up at him, smiled a stunningly sweet smile, only to frown a moment later when Jean was overrun by another bout of sneezing. Understanding flashed through Cain's eyes, swiftly followed by a sheepish, anxious form of embarrassment. "Cats." Cain explained.

"Must be allergic." Jean sniffled.

"I…erm, I guess you will want to go then…"

He looked so…sad. Jean did the first thing that came to mind, newly discovered allergies be damned. He hauled a rather surprised Cain into a bear hug, nuzzling gently against the base of Cain's neck. "Naw, I am rather comfy, actually."

This was, his head explained smugly, an incredibly good idea.


	94. Drabble the NinetyFourth Ling!

"No fucking way."  
"C'mon, Ed."  
"No. I feel like an idiot."  
"You look like a prince."  
"Is there supposed to be this much...shirt?"  
"How can I tell if you wont come out here where I can see you better?"  
"You self-serving, manipulative, slanty-eyed..."  
Ling couldnt help but smile at the endless stream of less than flattering commentary, and couldnt help but stare. Damn, did Ed look good in his third favorite shirt.  
Ed lifted a hand to shuffle the cute little hat around a bit, convinced he looked like he had some sort of spare cup perched in his hair. "Do I have to wear this thing?"


End file.
